BR 746 .B68 1879 Boultbee, T. P. A history of the Church of England A' / ^\^ THE CHUECH OF ENGLAND LONDON : PRINTED BY ;POTTISWOODE AND CO., NE-W-STREET SQUARE AND PARLIAMENT STREET A HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND PRE'REFORMATION PERIOD BY T. r'boultbee, ll.d. PRINCIPAL OF THE LONDON COLLEGE OP DIVINITY, ST JOHN'S HALL, IIKSHBUnY AND LATE FELLOW OF ST JOHN'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE LONDON LONGMAN^i, GREEN, AND CO. 1879 Alt ri'ihh PEEFACE It is to be presumed tliat a reason may be assigned for every book wliicli is written. It may not always be evident to the reader, but tlie author must be con- scious of some cause which moved him to write. In the present instance the moving cause was the lack of any work which seemed to the writer to trace the long story of the Church of England with sufficient brevity and sufficient fulness. Dry epitomes there are in abundance. Scholarly researches into the most re- mote past come forth year by year. The history of portions of the long centuries, or personal narrative, has been often written with appreciative genius. But there seemed more than room for a connected narrative which might be useful to one who is commencing ac- quaintance with Enghsh Church history, and which might also possess sufficient interest for the general reader. The Church of England is at once old and new. It has been reformed, but its heritage has come down to it through more than a millennium. To trace the main lines of national Church hfe ever leading on steadfastly towards the divinely foreknown new birth at the Eefornuxtion, and at the same time to gather up vi PREFACE. step by step by the wayside notes, personal, legal, or antiquarian, wliicli might serve to illustrate the past or to account for the present, has been the object of the author. He has allowed, as far as seemed possible in so limited an area, some writer of each age to speak his own words and breathe his own sentiments. If some other ancient writer may somewhat vary the utterance, yet by this means only the pulse of the national heart can be felt beating, hoAvever faintly, in what would otherwise be a modernised narrative ; and thus only can the life of the past centuries breathe a still percep- tible life into the pages. All history, even the most exhaustive chronicles, even the files of the Times, which day by day sweeps into its columns the news of the whole earth, must be a selection. Tlie more brief the history, the more diffi- cult becomes the exercise of judgment in selecting and of tact in reporting. Here comes the personal element in the authorship. To choose this, to reject that ; to condense, even with a conscious sense of dryness, one half century, to give the reins to a more flowing narra- tive in another ; to pass without comment twenty fives, to criticise and analyse tfie principles of another — this is the anxiety of choice, this is where one mind will hardly run parallel with another. Yet the author hopes that, though other minds might have exercised the prerogative of selection otherwise, it may be ac- knowledged upon the whole that he has thrown down no disjecta membra of past ages, but a collection of facts grouped into an organised body of history, which pos- sesses life and advances ever steadily onwards to the end. PREFACE. Vll By many minds it will be reckoned a blemish that these pages have been written from a national rather than from an ecclesiastical point of view. If the eccle- siastical hfe were identical with the spiritual hfe, the blemish would be acknowledged. But feeling, as the author does most keenly, that the case is otherwise, and that when the ecclesiastical Hfe was most vigorous, even dominating the civil life of the nation, tlien the spiritual pulse throbbed most feebly, and was failing even unto the faintness that comes before death, he must maintain his position. He would desire to judge fairly and gently the great men of old in State and Church. They played the part which Providence assigned them. They led the nation on, not knmving whither it was going. They did their work in building up this England which we have inherited. They are our forefathers, we should speak of them reverently. We owe them gra- titude for many deeds of high courage, for the founda- tions of justice and of empire which they laid, for much wise forethought and political sagacity. In all this to the great ecclesiastics must be adjudged by no means the least share of well-merited fame. But their eminent services cannot inspire in the author's mind a sympathy with a system which he deems untrue. The national point of view, then, has been that from which these pages are written. And the national point of view is distinctly anti-papal. It has been so for fidl three hundred years, and for another full three hundred years before that. Why should this be deemed contro- versial or sectarian ? It may be both, but it need be neither. For in very fact the papal thread is tluit wliirh runs down t]n-ougli all lliose centuries. It gives VIU PREFACE. unity to their consideration, and, apart from its guid- ance, there is nothing but unintelligible confusion. Therefore it has suggested the arrangement of the following chapters. With regard to the materials for this history, the author can only profess diligence in research, and an earnest effort for accuracy in the use of that which has come to his hand. All persons of historical information know the sources which he open to investigation, and they know also how easy it is to throw together refer- ences at the foot of the page which may bespeak multi- farious learninor. The distinguished scholars who have pursued laborious investigations for the last forty years have not indeed revolutionised history, for its main landmarks are immutable, but they have poured floods of light upon it illuminating its darkest recesses. The names of Kemble, of Eeeve, of Freeman, of Stubbs, of the careful editors of the EoUs Series, and many more will at once rise to the mind. And it was in no small degree because these men had laboured, and because it seemed that such a history as the present might now be written more lucid than those of old because of the light which they had kindled, that the author under- took this work. It seemed undesirable in such a volume to multiply references, or to make a display of reading. But in all leading portions the authorities mainly followed have been carefully stated, little as their scanty mention will set forth the manifold labour. Bearinahsed system which severed the haughty ecclesiastic of the fourteenth or fifteenth century from his fellow-men, but in the Saxon, or more accurately, the Enghsh, association of Church and PRINCIPLES OF ENGLISH FREEDOM. 61 State— sovereign, bishop, and people— deciding on their common interests. Let the true love of antiquity temper false ecclesiastical pride ; then will the Enghsh Church recur to its origin, and English principles rule in the Church as they do in the State. 62 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. CHAPTER III. THE ORGANISATION AND LEARNING OF THE EARLY ANGLO-SAXON CHURCH. The very name Anglo-Saxon is objected to, and in some sense riglitly, by some of our leading historians. They nrge that the term is misleading, as though the people whom we thus style were not our bone and our flesh. Did they not, it is asked, call themselves the English people ? Are not we, by inheritance of race, of customs, and of language, the same and not another nation ? All this may be true, and yet the prevalence of the name may imply a certain convenience in its use. And surely in speaking of the Church of England after the Conquest, we find it separated from the Church before the Con- quest by sufficiently conspicuous distinctions. It is, therefore, at least a matter of convenience and clearness to retain a nomenclature which marks off a defined period of history. The present chapter will deal with the principal events in the history of the early Saxon-Church during the century and a-half which followed its missionary stage of existence. During that time it passed from the first fervour of conversion, and the first excitement of the novelties of before unexplored knowledge, into cold- ness, laxity, and indifference. There will be found here no complete chronicle of events, but a summary account only of the leading circumstances and personages, from the missionary epoch of the Church until the approx- PAPAL CHOICE OF AN ARCHBISHOP. 63 imate union of the Saxon tribes under Egbert early in the ninth century. After the death of Honorius, the last of the early Italian archbishops of Canterbury, a West Saxon, named Frithona, who assumed the appellation Deusdedit, was appointed to the Metropohtan See, 655. He died in 664, the date usually assigned to the Council at Whitby, which united the Church of England. The appoint- ment of his successor became at this crisis a matter of great importance. It was needful that the new archbishop should be a man who would concihate both parties. The kings of Kent and Northumbria thought they had found such a person in Wighard, a Kentish priest of English extraction. In order to give the greater weight to his office, he was sent to Italy to receive con- secration at the hands of Vitalian, then bishop of Eome. There he died of the plague, and to avoid further delay the two kings left the choice of the new Archbishop to Vitalian. Thus, by the hand of its two leading sove- reigns was the Church of England sent forth on the orbit in which for many centuries it was to revolve as a satelhte of the Eoman See. What might have been its better fortune, or into what worse heresies it might have fallen, had tlie decision at Whitby been different, it is vain to speculate. It was henceforth to share the common lot of Western Christendom until the day of Eeformation should arise. The other island Churches, of Wales, Scotland, and Ireland, followed it in this sub- mission, but at later and at different periods. The appointment to Canterbury having been tlius left to Vitalian, he replied at some length to Oswy king of Northumbria, congratulating him on his piety and his orthodoxy about Easter, and implying that there was some difficulty in finding a suitable person. ' We 64 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. have not been able,' said Yitalian/ ' considering the length of the journey, to find at present a man docile, and qualified in all respects to be a bishop, according to the tenor of your letters. But as soon as such a suit- able person shall be found, we will send him with proper instructions to your country, that he may, by word of mouth, and through the divine oracles, with the assist- ance of God, root out all the enemy's tares throughout your island.' Yitalian, accordingly, commenced enquiries which ultimately led him to select two ecclesiastics, of whom we have this description. Hadrian was an abbot near Naples,^ ' by nation an African, well versed in holy writ, experienced in monastical and ecclesiastical dis- cipline, and excellently skilled both in the Greek and Latin tongues.' Theodore was a monk then in Eome, ' born at Tarsus in Cilicia, a man well instructed in worldly and divine literature, as also in Greek and Latin ; of known probity of hfe, and venerable for age, being sixty-six years old.' Hadrian having refused the archbishopric himself, prevailed on Yitalian to con- secrate Theodore. This was done, but on condition that Hadrian should accompany him into Britain. We are expressly told that this arrangement was made because of some distrust lest Theodore might, ' according to the custom of the Greeks,' introduce anything contrary to true faith into the Church over which he presided. Hadrian, as an African, would look to the Western rather than the Eastern Church, and so might be trusted as a watchful guardian by the side of Theodore. But, . alas ! the archbishop's exterior was not utterly orthodox, he wore the Eastern tonsure, and had to wait four 1 Bede, iii. 29. =» Bede, iv. 1. THE ROMAN TONSUEE. 65 months before his hair had grown sufficiently to receive the true Petrine crown. Tlie orthodox Eoman tonsure is that which is fami- liar to us in media3val paintings. The crown only of the head is shaved, leaving a ring of hair untouched. This, like everything else at Eome, was assumed to be due to the Apostle Peter himself, and was known as Petrine. The much-detested Scottish tonsure,^ on the other hand, shaved the head in front from ear to ear, leaving no unbroken ring of hair. If this did not come from St. Peter, to whom could it be traced ? The ' Clemen- tines,' and ' Eecognitions,' the first rehgious novel, told the curious story of the long contest between St. Peter and Simon Magus, which was generally received as history. Hence anything which was not of Peter might be taken as due to Simon Magus. Accordingly, the Eoman party delighted in twitting their Celtic opponents with follow- ing that famous heresiarch, and wearing what they were pleased to call his tonsure on their heads. The defect of Theodore was of a different kind. His was not the obnoxious horseshoe of hair. He had the tonsure of St. Paul, who was traditionally reported to have been quite bald. Accordingly the Pauline tonsure shaved or clipped the whole of the head. In this bared condition it re- quired these four months' growth before Theodore's hair had recovered sufficiently to receive the Eoman form of tonsure. Then he proceeded with Hadrian into Britain, where he arrived 669. This arrival of the learned Greek with his companion is an era in the history of the Church of England. His coadjutor, Hadrian, w\as made abbot of the monastery which Augustine founded, and where all the early archbishops were buried. Theodore made a visi- ' Reeve, Adartinan, p. 350 ; Skene, Celt. Scot., ii. 6. 66 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. tation of the Eiiglisli portion of the whole island, and to use the words of Bede/ ' being everywhere attended and assisted by Hadrian, he disseminated the right rule of life, and the canonical custom of celebrating Easter. This was the first archbishop whom all the English Church obeyed. And forasmuch as they were well- read in sacred and secular literature, they gathered a crowd of disciples. Day by day flowed from them rivers of knowledge to water the hearts of the hearers ; and together with the books of holy writ, they taught the arts of poetry, astronomy, and ecclesiastical arithmetic. In testimony of this, some of their scholars are hving at this day as well versed in the Greek and Latin tongues as in their own. Erom that time also they began in all the churches of the English to learn ecclesiastical music, which till then had been only known in Kent. Thus, Theodore visiting all parts, ordained bishops in proper places, and with their assistance corrected such things as he found faulty.' The Church of England, as it was left at the death of Theodore, was subject to the jurisdiction of sixteen ^ bishops under the sole primacy of Canterbury. It was some few years afterwards that Northumbria claimed Metropohtan rank for its chief bishop, and the imperial city of York became the see of an archbishop. The first synod of the English Church was assembled by Theodore at Hertford 673. Six^ sees were repre- sented. Theodore is said to have presented to this council a book of ' canons of the holy fathers,' doubt- less those then of authority in Eome. From this he selected ten canons reffulatinoj certain matters of dis- ciphne and jurisdiction, which all present subscribed. It need scarcely be said that the first of these was ; ^ Bede, iv. 2. ^ stubbs, Constit. Hkt, i. 219. » ^.^e, iv. 5. SYNODS OF AECPIBISHOP TIIEODOHE. 07 ' We will all keep the holy clay of Easter on the Sunday after the fourteenth moon (that is, day of the moon) of the first month.' The object of the rest may be de- scribed as hmiting the jurisdiction and action of the bishops and clergy within their own districts. It was further agreed that a synod should be held twice a year ; the August meeting to be held at Cloveslioo. The situ- ation of this place has been a puzzle to antiquarians for centuries. It would be futile to enumerate the guesses which have been ventured as to its locality. All that seems fairly certain is, that it must have been within the dominions of the Mercian ^ king, but also not far from Kent and Wessex. These conditions may point to some place not far from London, which receives support from the fact that Boniface calls the English synod ' Synodus Londinensis.' It is somewhat strange that after so precise a canon there should be no record of another synod at Cloveslioo till seventy years later. Another synod held by Theodore met at Hatfield 680. Its notice of the Monothelite controversy then active at Constantinople, and its acknowledgment of the first five general councils, shows England as once more entering the European family of nations. Following the laws of Justinian, Theodore is said to have granted the patronage of churches to any landed proprietor who should endow them on his estate. It has been alleged that hence in tlie course of time tlie territorial divisions, called parishes, were constituted. But this subject will require furtlier consideration wlien the constitution of tlie Saxon Cliurcli comes under review. It is but a sketch in outline of this eminent arch- bishop which can be presented here; but even so, it would * Haddan and Stublos, iii. 122; Kemble, ii. 191. 68 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. be incomplete witlioiit some account of the Penitential which bears his name. Gieseler ^ gives this curt de- scription of this class of hterature : ' Instructions how to purchase penitential seasons by singing, by prayer, and by money.' After the conversion of Constantine it was thought wise to adapt the ancient severe moral disciphne of the Church to the world which ostensibly avowed its alle- giance. Then it became only too feasible, and appa- rently necessary, to commute the probation of wealthy and noble sinners for some pecuniary or other service which they might be more willing to render. Hence arose, especially in the Greek Church, the system which has received such a condemnatory description. Amongst such a people as the Saxons a system of this kind was as natural as it was pernicious. The Saxon code valued almost every offence at a certain pecuniary mulct.'^ Offences against the Hfe, honour, or property of every man were estimated in money on a scale proportioned to his rank. It was difficult for such a people to learn that the judgment of God proceeded on a different system altogether ; and the penitential books failed to teach them that fundamental truth. The following specimen of this singular ecclesiastical arith- metic may suffice to justify Gieseler's pithy definition. It is assigned by the learned collector to Archbishop Dunstan and the year 963. It applies to ' infirm men.' ' One ^ day's fasting may be redeemed with a penny, or with two hundred psalms. A year's fasting may be redeemed with thirty shillings, or with freeing a slave that is worth that money. A man for one day's fasting 1 Vol. ii. p. 195, CLark's transl. ^ Kemble, b. ii. 8. ' Johnson, Laivs mid Canons of the Church of England, pp. 426-449, Oxford ed. PENITENTIAL CODES. 69 may sing Beati six times, and six times Pater noster. . . • With one mass twelve days' fasting may be redeemed ; and with ten masses four months' fasting may be re- deemed. . . .' Then follow further commutations for rich men, among them : ' Let him by all possible means procure seven times a hundred and twenty men to fast for him three days, then are there as many fasts kept as there are days in seven years. . . .' ' This is that softening of penance which belongs to wealthy men, and such as abound in friends ; but one in a lower condition cannot make such dispatch ; but, therefore, he must pursue it in his own person with the greater earnestness. And it is most righteous that every one revenge his own crimes on himself by dih- gent satisfaction ; for it is written, every one shall bear his own burden.' The comment of a distinguished scholar and anti- quarian may possibly have greater weight with some than that of a divine. Kemble ^ indignantly remarks on this system : ' Nothing can more strikingly demon- strate the folly and wickedness of squaring and shaping the unhmited mercy of God by the rule and measure of human intelhgence. I am bound to say that I know of no more fatal source of anti-Christian error, no more miserable records of the debasement and degradation of human intellect, no more frightful proof of the absence of genuine rehgion.' But, however true this may be with regard to the commuted penance which grew up in tlie Saxon as in other branches of the Church, it is right to say that the genuine Penitential of Theodore,''^ as far as it re- mains from the collection of his disciples, is not open to this precise condemnation. It is in fact a complete ^ Saxons in England, ii. 404. ^ Haddan and SUiLbs, iii, 173. 70 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. code of ecclesiastical discipline, divided methodically under the heads relating to such states of hfe and such sins as might come under cognisance of the Church authorities. For example, under the first heading, ' Of Drunkenness,' a man in holy orders guilty of this must either abandon the crime or be deposed. A drunken monk must be a penitent for thirty days, a priest for forty, and so on with other gradations. In this manner the season of penitence is marked out for the great variety of human offences, each under its proper divi- sion. It ranges upward from a flogging to be inflicted on a boy, or the penitence of a few days, to the usual maximum of fifteen years. The remark obvious to the English churchman, knowing nothing of such a system as this, would perhaps be to this effect. Some strin- gent discipline of the kind may be necessary in a Church freshly gathered from among the heathen, and sur- rounded by the abominations of heathen immorahty. That it is so the experience and practice of our Indian missions abundantly proves. In these a convert lapsing into open sin is relegated for such time as may be needful into the rank of what the early Church called ' penitents,' that is, persons under a renewed probation suspended from their full church privileges. It seems manifest that something of this kind may have been even more necessary in that early Saxon Church, where, without conversion of heart, and with the most slender knowledge, thousands were baptised at once. But when this obvious necessity is fossilised into a system — when the test of a sinner's restoration into full church communion is not ' the godly sorrow working repentance unto salvation,' which the Apostle ^ required in the first case upon record, but the serving out a » 2 001'. ii. 4-11, vii. 8-13. COMMUTATIONS OF PENANCE. 71 fixed penal period of so many days or years, the spi- ritual element is lost, and all becomes human, eccle- siastical, and formal. It appears, tlierefore, that the genuine Penitential of Theodore does not recognise commutations and eva- sions of the fixed penitential periods. For some time afterwards these were deemed irregular. The synod of Cloveshoo in 747, under the second archbishop after Theodore, expressly decreed^ that no alms should be allowed to diminish the fixed period of penance ; that however good it might be to repeat the psalms, to pray often, to bestow alms, yet that the assigned duration of the penitential time must not be shortened on their account. Otherwise, the synod shrewdly argues, it could not have been a hard thing for the rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven, if alms could purchase impunity. Still the fact that the synod notices the sub- ject shows that the practice had already crept in. Nay, it appears to have been already formulated, for cur- rent ' penitentials of uncertain authorship ' are stig- matised by that synod as admitting ' light and unusual modes of penance for grave offences, and in the pro- phet's words, sewing pillows to all armholes.' It requires but little knowledge of human nature to be assured that these commutations for times of penance speedily became the rule rather than tlie exception. They were a natural fruit of the system. One formality was substituted for another ; the debt to the Churcli was recognised, and the Churcli was satisfied. One other matter requires notice. The enumeration of gross sins in the Penitential of Theodore descends into the deepest abysses of hunum corruption, where it describes and catalogues them with the offensive cool- 1 Gieseler, ii. 320 ; IladdarHs Rcmams, p. 324. ^ HISTOIIY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. ness of documents of this description. How were such sins made known ? It must be answered that confession to the parish priest at least once a year was recom- mended/ though Theodore himself declared that con- fession to God was sufficient. What other statement could be expected from a Greek of that age with whom such an authority as the following from Chrysostom would rank among the very highest ? That ancient father, commenting on the apostle's words, let ' a man examine himself,' ^ says : ' He does not bid one man examine another, but every one himself; making the judgment private, and the trial without witnesses. . . . He bids thee within thy own conscience, none being present but God, who knows all things, to set up a judg- ment and search after thy sins.' It may be permitted to remark that one of the rules in Theodore's Penitential tends to confirm the disputed popular derivation of the Enghsh appellation of Whit- Sunday, applied to the day of Pentecost : ' In reverence for the gift of regeneration prayer must be offered on Pentecost in white raiment.' This certainly traces the idea of the White Sunday in England back to the earhest Saxon times, whether it satisfies etymologists or no. Theodore died a.d. 690, at the age of eighty-eight, having held the see of Canterbury twenty-two years. He was laid with his predecessors in the monastic church of St. Peter and St. Paul, afterwards better known as St. Augustine's. ' Up to this time,' says the Saxon Chronicle, ' the archbishops of Canterbury were Eoman, but from this time they were English.' It is singular that, while Bede names his great ser- * E(/berfs Dialof/ue, Thorpe, ii. 96 ; see also Gieseler, ii. 319. 2 Horn. VIII. cle Fenit, CONSECRATION OF WILFRID. 73 vices with the highest respect, no miraculous stories are associated with him in hfe or death. Was it that the learned Greek was known to hold such legends in disdain, or what influence restrained the credulous monks from the usual play of their imaginations ? Contemporary with Theodore was Wilfrid, who took so prominent a part in the Council of Whitby. His zealous advocacy of the Eoman cause has induced both Papal and Protestant writers to dwell on the events of his life at considerable length. But there is another reason for this. His rank, abilities, and highly-wrought energies not only made a deep impression on the men of his age, but secured for him a loving biographer. In the pages of Eddi or Eddius there remain to us a series of pictures of that age in which Saxon and Scot, Gaul and Itahan figure. Wilfrid's hfe of vicissitudes led him from the Tweed to the Tiber, and everywhere his high quahties brought him into prominence. No wonder that such materials should still suggest for him a large place on the historical canvas, and that men should still dis- cuss his misfortunes and his faults. He was appointed to the Northumbrian bishopric after the death of Tuda, Colman's successor. Dissatisfied with the purity of the Enghsh succession, tainted with Scottish ordination, he is said to have sought a purer fount of Episcopal authority in Gaul.^ Consecrated there, he delayed his return to Britain, and Chad was appointed meamvhile to the see he neglected. After some time Archbishop Theodore reinstated Wilfrid in the northern bishopric. Under him York once more became the chief seat of the Nortliumbrian bishop, after its long abandonment since the departure of Pauhnus. In this position he displayed a magnificence rivalling 1 Bede, iii. 28. 74 fflSTORY OF THE CIIUECH OF ENGLAND. that of the kings. His glory and riches, the statehness of his buildings at York, Hexham, and Eipon, his gold and silver plate, the multitude of his attendants, gleam forth from the early writers. The Northumbrian prince was aroused by such a rivalry. But the form which the contest assumed resulted from an ecclesiastical divi- sion of Northumbria, carried out by Archbishop Theo- dore, acting with the king and council of that nation. Northumbria was divided into three dioceses, the larger portion of it with York being left to Wilfrid. The in- dignant prelate withheld his consent, and proceeding to Eome made the earhest known appeal against a decision of the Enghsh Church and State. After an adventurous journey he arrived at Eome, and was heard by Pope Agatho,^ who gave him a letter acquitting him of all charges brought against him and requiring his restoration to his see. The reception of this letter may be best given in the language of Eddius, the admiring biographer of Wilfrid.''^ ' He arrived after his long journey bearing the banner of victory, that is, bringing with him the judgment of the Apostohc See. Saluting the king in peace, and humbly showing the written judgment of the Apostohc See, with the consent and subscription of the whole synod, he pre- sented it with its bulls and seals. A synod was then summoned, consisting of all the chief laity and clergy, to hear the salutary and peaceful counsels of the Apos- tohc See. But when they heard a mandate so contrary to their own will, some of them contumaciously rejected it. Moreover (which was yet more execrable), to the damage of their own souls, they declared that the document had been procured by bribery. Then by command of the king and his councillors, with consent » Bede, v. 19. « Eddius, Vit. Wilf., xxxiii. EXILE OF WILFRID. 75 of the bisliojos, he was committed to custody without honour for nine months.' Such was the fate of a papal rescript in Northumbria in the seventh century. After his release Wilfrid passed some time in the south of England. There he found the South Saxons still heathen. Severed from Kent and Wessex by its great forests, Sussex seems, from Bede's description,^ to have contained a scanty population in a most backward state of civilisation. These received Christianity from Wil- frid, to whom the promontory of Selsey, afterwards the seat of the bishopric until its removal to Chichester, was assigned by the South Saxon king. About the same time the Isle of Wight was conquered by the king of Wessex, and is said to have been the last ' of all the provinces of Britain to receive the faith of Christ.' Wilfrid's services were called in on this occa- sion also. From that day to this the Isle of Wight has been included in the great bishopric of Wessex, whose chief seat has long been at Winchester. Soon after these events he submitted to a compro- mise through the intervention of Archbishop Theodore, by which he was restored to authority in Northumbria, but no longer (or only for a brief interval) as bishop of the whole kingdom. He recognised the newly consti- tuted sees of Lindisfarne and Hexham. He was, how- ever, again involved in disputes with the king of Northumbria on a similar question connected with the division of his bisliopric, and again left the kingdom. Subsequently he was deposed by a council presided over by Brightwold or Bertwald, Theodore's successor at Canterbury, and once more carried his appeal to Eome. He brought back letters requiring the king and arch- bishop to reconsider the question, duly keeping in view 1 Bede, xiii. 289, 76 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. the decisions already given by the Eoman See. The archbishop was inchned to yield, but the Northumbrian king was inexorable. ' Ask me,' ^ said he, ' what you will for yourselves, but ask me no more on behalf of Wilfrid. The kings my predecessors, and the archbishops with their coun- sellors, and afterwards ourselves with nearly all the British bishops of your race, have judged his cause. That judgment, as long as I live, I will never change on account of writings obtained, as ye say, from the Apostolic See.' But that monarch passed away, and in a subsequent reign, Archbishop Bertwald presided ^ at another coun- cil near the river Nidd, where the question of reconci- liation was again discussed. The papal prolixity was little adapted to Saxon simplicity, and the archbishop on this ground dechned to translate the pope's letters to the king. He said they were couched in language ^ ' very roundabout and with circumlocutions of words,' a peculiarity not lost at Eome after the lapse of eleven more centuries. The result was another compromise. Wilfrid now submitted to accept the see of Hexham with Eipon, abandoning all claim to York, and ended his days as one of four prelates in the Northumbrian realm. One who had been so vigorous an advocate at Whitby and elsewhere for Eoman usages and supre- macy was hkely to be a favourite in the Eoman ages which followed. The shrine of St. Wilfrid at Eipon became a place for pilgrimage renowned through all the north country. Bede has prepared us to expect developments of learning and art in the Anglo-Saxon Church, following 1 Eddius, Vit. Wilf., Ivi. « ^ede, v. 19. ^ Eddius, 68. BENEDICT BISCOP AND ALDHELM. 77 on the labours of Hadrian and Archbishop Theodore. These may now engage attention. Benedict Biscop holds a prominent place in the annals of Northumbrian learning. He was the founder of the monastery at Wearmouth, where Bede received his education, and also of the neighbouring monastery of Jarrow, where that illustrious man lived and died. Benedict Biscop visited Eome many times. He made what was deemed in those days a large collection of books, besides saintly relics in abundance. He was in high favour with the kings of Northumbria, and re- ceived large grants of land for his monasteries. Skil- ful workmen were introduced by him from France, who built in solid masonry instead of the wood which had contented St. Aidan and the monks of the Columban brotherhood. He is said even to have introduced glass into the windows of his church, which was adorned with paintings.^ A skilful church musician, John the arch-chanter, accompanied him from Italy ; and thus the arts and learning found a home on the banks of the Wear. Even so in our own day the visitor of the mission scenes in Tinnevelly or Sierra Leone hears the old English tunes and chants reproduced by the dark native lips. Aldhelm was one of the most famous of the pupils of Hadrian. He was of royal descent, and became abbot of Malmesbury, and ultimately bishop of Sher- borne, where he died 709. The collection of his Latin works comprises several epistles, ' the Praises of Vir- ginity,' in prose, besides ' the Praises of Virgins,' and other poems. Li that age his style was considered bril- liant, and his learning remarkable. Modern taste may acknowledge some exuberance of fimcy and some ^ Bede, iv. 18. 78 HISTORY OF THE CHUECH OF ENGLAND. poetic glow of imagination, but it will usually pro- nounce the diction to be turgid, and the style faulty, overflowing with incongruous metaphors. For ex- ample, he cannot speak of some rule of metrical grammar without breaking forth into this bombastic phraseology:^ 'In so dense a forest of the whole of Latinity, and in such woody thickets of syllables, where ancient tradition declares that manifold rootlets of rules bud forth from each root of the words, it is not easy for the unskilled to distinguish the length of syllables.' If the length of a syllable can draw forth this cumbrous metaphor, it may be imagined what flowers of rhetoric are culled to adorn more poetical subjects. It will perhaps have scarcely occurred to most readers that an organ, of however primitive construc- tion, had yet sent forth its pealing notes through Saxon arches. Yet the following passage rendered from Aldhelm's ' Praises of Virgins ' seems to show it ; — If the more gentle lyre seem tame and cold, On which the Psa Imist harped bis songs of old — And thou would'st praise the Lord with fuller sound Than in its tender chords can e'er be found — Then the huge organs from their windy chest May pour their thousand blasts to please thee best, While from the gilded cases sounding clear, Their modulations soothe thy listening ear. Aldhelm's turgid Latin poetry was the admiration of the world of scholars. Outside that world was the simple English multitude. But they also had their bards. The old Saxon songs spoke to them of the tra- ditions of their ancestral heroes, and there arose one who rhymed to them in their own tongue on the works of God. In the famous abbey of Whitby, when Hilda * Ejy. ad Acircium, SACRED POETRY OF C.EDMON. 79 ruled on those northern heights, there was a herdsman named Casdmon/ who altogether lacked the common accomplishment of singing mirthful songs, and when it came to his turn used to retire from supper in bashful dismay. One evening he had thus withdrawn, and having cared for his cattle lay down to rest in the stall. There one appeared to him in his sleep and said, ' Cgedmon, sing some song to me.' ' I cannot sing, and therefore I retired,' was the reply. ' Nay, but thou hast to sinoj to me.' ' What shall I sino^? ' ' Singf the beo^innincf of created tinners/ He beoran to sinof, and CD CD CD O O ' versified the story of creation. Next morning he was brought before Hilda, related his dream, and repeated his verses. Thenceforward he was associated with the Whitby brethren, and told Scripture stories in Enghsh verse, doubtless thus conveying much truth to simple minds, and providing something which might be suno- or recited by the old English hearth instead of the an- cient heathen ballads. He is thought to have died at Whitby about 680. There is something sweet about Bede's story of CaBdmon's quasi-inspiration. Legend it may be, but it is not well to judge hardly the precise form into which the spirit of the age threw the origin of the precious gift of sacred song, which was to reach the hearts of the rustic multitude. The story could not well fail to be somewhat recast in the telling ; but why should it seem strange that meditation on the wondrous history of creation and redemption, in a spirit softened and tender as that of Caidmon, miglit develop unsuspected powers, and ' the mute inglorious Milton ' thus break forth into verse ? Whether we now possess any of ' Bede, iv. 24. 80 HISTOEY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. Cseclmon's genuine poems ^ is a matter of doubt among critical writers. Tlie chief glory of the early English age of learn- ing was the Venerable Bede. He passed his life, from the age of seven to his death in 735, when more than threescore years old, in the monasteries of Wearmouth and Jarrow. He was a man of unwearied industry, as is still witnessed by his works, which in one edition fill eight folio volumes. He wrote commentaries on most of the books of Scripture, which are still occa- sionally quoted with respect. He also composed trea- tises on grammar, arithmetic, music, and other subjects of the schools, besides saintly biography. But the work for which he is best known is his ' Ecclesiastical History of the English Nation,' ending with the year 731. Such a man in that age was of encyclopasdic learning, and with all their defects his works were of inestimable value, and trained many minds. His style is perfectly simple and unaffected, as that of one who had much to say to attentive scholars, and bestowed httle thought on the mere phrase. The story of his death, as told by one of his pupils, often finds a place in modern popular literature. Though not unalloyed with the characteristic superstition of the age, it is a record of simple and fervid piety, devoted industry, and affectionate reverence Thus writes the disciple, speak- m<^ of the last work of his master, the translation into Saxon of the Gospel of St. John : ' When the third day of the week before our Lord's ascension had arrived, his breathing became more laborious, and a slight swelling appeared in his feet; yet, during the whole of it, he taught and dictated cheerfully, and sometimes said, " Learn quickly, for I know not how ^ Smith; Dictum, of Christ. Buxj. DEATH OF THE VENEKABLE BEDE. 81 long I may abide, nor how soon He wlio created me may take me away." To lis it appeared that he was well aware of his departure ; and so he passed the night wakefully in giving thanks to God. ' At the dawn of the fourth day of the week he com- manded us to write dihgently that which we had begun ; and this we did until the third hour. From that hour we walked in procession with the relics of the saints, as the custom of that day required. But one of us re- mained with liim, and said to him, " Dearly beloved master, one chapter is still wanting ; and it appears to be painful to thee that I should ask any further ques- tions." But he said, " It does not trouble me. Take thy pen, and be attentive, and write quickly." ' The disciple tJien describes the farewell and little parting gifts to his brethren in the monastery. ' It is time,' he told them, ' that I return to Him who made me — who created me, and formed me out of nothing. I have had a long life on the earth ; the merciful Judge has also been pleased to ordain for me a happy life. The time of my departure is at hand, for I have a desire to depart and to be with Christ.' And with many such remarks he passed the day until eventide. Then the boy whom we liave already mentioned said to him, ' Still one sentence, dear master, remains unwritten.' He replied, 'Write quickly.' After a while the boy said, 'Now the sentence is fniished.' He answered, ' You have spoken the truth ; it is indeed finished. Eaise my liead in your hands, for it pleases me much to rechne opposite to that holy place of mine in wliich I used to pray, so that, while resting there, I may call upon God my Father.' And being placed upon the pavement of his cell, he said, ' Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost ; ' and as soon as G 82 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. lie had named the name of the Holy Spirit, he breathed out his own spirit, and so departed to the kingdom of heaven. More than a thousand years have passed, and Bede's Northumbrian dialect would be intelligible only here and there in a few words to English ears ; but such a death may remind us of one sentence at least in the creed which he and ourselves alike have recited : ' I beheve in the communion of saints.' In the same faith and hope they pass into the same inheritance of promise. Among the pupils of Hadrian may also be named two Archbishops of Canterbury — Tatwine and Nothelm. Nothelm (735-741) was famous for his powers as a scribe. He was, therefore, sent on a mission to Eome to collect books. There he was well received and ob- tained access to the archives. He was thus enabled to transmit to Bede important documents, which were embodied in the ' Ecclesiastical History,' as Bede acknowledges in his preface. Fo one can have visited any great library without being struck with the care bestowed on their manuscripts by the Anglo-Saxon scribes and the dehcacy and finish of their illumina- tions. In the next generation after Archbishop Theodore, may be named Egbert, Archbishop of York, who died in 767, as one of those v/ho promoted the cause of learning. He formed a library containing works of some of the classical writers and grammarians as Avell as of the Fathers of the Church. It was a collection which France itself could not rival, and of which Alcuin wrote thus to Cliarlemagne : ' Give me those exquisite books of erudition which I had in my own country by the good and devout industry of my master Egbert, the Archbishop.' ' If it shall please your THE ARCHBISHOPRIC OF YORK. 83 wisdom, I will send some of our youths, who shall copy from thence whatever is necessary and carry back into France the flowers of Britain ; that the garden may not be shut up in York, but the fruits of it may be placed in the Paradise of Tours.' Egbert was of royal descent. It was in his person that the see of York was definitely constituted as an archbishopric. The Northumbrian kingdom at this time, though on the wane before the increasing power of Mercia, had sufiicient influence to claim Metropolitan rank for its chief see. The pope, tliough not without some difficulty, granted the pall ; and since tliis time York has retained its primacy. This notice of the foundation of the archiepiscopate of York may conveniently permit a digression on the rivalry between the two primates. It broke forth espe- cially in Norman times, and a strange chapter might be written upon its history. On the merits of the conten- tion, which was pleaded before popes and kings for some centuries, who shall venture to pronounce ? Per- haps the full connected story remains yet to be written. The strife is an Ihad in itself; biit its incidents lie scattered through many histories. An anonymous sketch of the struggle was printed ^ from a Lambeth manuscript about two hundred years ago, which brings it down to the year 1354. Briefly it may be said that Canterbury claimed precedence, sometimes even some amount of jurisdiction. York claimed equahty ; nay, sometimes asserted that all ancient Mefcia was part of its province. The Primate of York, having occasion to visit Eome to receive liis pall, or being called upon to take part in any genei"al busiftess of State or Church, must pass through his rival's province. In the great ^ AiujJia Sacra, i. 65. G 2 84 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. councils of the nation the two archbishops must often appear. How should their claims be adjusted ? The best known incident in the long strife is that which occurred in 1176, when Henry II. attempted to assuage it by means of a papal legate who should hear the cause at Westminster. The legate and the archbishop of Canterbury came early and took their places. The archbishop of York arrived somewhat later. He found Canterbury occupying the seat on the right of the legate, that on the left remaining for him- self.^ But he was equal to the occasion, and thrusting himself between the legate and his rival, sat down on his very lap. But the intruding archbishop was not in the midst of his own Northumbrians, else the issue might have been different. ' He was seized,' says Birch - ington,^ a monk of Canterbury who wrote a history of that great see, by the bishops, clergy, and laymen ; flung upon the ground, beaten with staves and fists, and rescued only by his brother of Canterbury, who thus returned good for evil.' The blood of Becket had then given fresh lustre to Canterbury. To touch the Pope was to touch the Apostle Peter. So now to violate Canterbury was to trench on the rights of the martyr St. Thomas, and unfortunately the archbishop of York had been his bitter opponent. Thus, when the primate of York made complaint of his rough usage to the King in Council, he was saluted with cries, ' Go, thou be- trayer of St. Thomas ; thy hands smell of his blood ! ' The tale was told somewliat otherwise in the north, which had not yet lost (has it ever lost ?) its idea of independence. Still for many a year page after page of the records is full of protests from tlie archbishop of Canterbury, whenever he hears that his northern brother ^ AngJiu Sacra, i. 72 ; Gervase, Po7it. Cant. ^ Ang. Sac, i. 9. RIVALRY OF CANTERBURY AND YORK. 85 is to cross his province. For example, in 1306 Arch- bishop Winchelsey ^ hears that the archbishop of York is coming home from the Continent, and will presume to carry his archiepiscopal cross erect on his journey. There comes forth a vehement injunction to all the heges of Canterbury. ' The officials are in every pos- sible way to prohibit or prevent such presumption. Every place where he passes Avith cross erect is to be placed under an interdict. Any subject of Canterbury who shall bow to the benediction of York shall be ex- communicated. None shall ring the bells or in any way favour the intruder.' At last came the time (1352), when the feud of centuries was to be stayed, and the contest ' de hajulatione crucis^ about the right of carrying the archiepiscopal cross, was settled. Edward III. was on the throne, and the kings of England were taking a firmer grasp of their clerical subjects. Simon Ishp w^as at Canterbury, John Thoresby was at York. This was the award of the king, confirmed by the j^ope.^ ' Either archbishop might journey with his cross borne before him, wheresoever he would, through the province of his brother, were it in the very cities of Canterbury or York themselves. But each archbishop of York should offer officially at the shrine of St. Thomas in the Ca- thedral Church of Canterbury a golden image of an archbishop bearing a cross, of the value of forty pounds sterhng, in acknowledgment of this peaceable arrange- ment. In parHaments and on civil occasions the arch- bishop of Canterbury, as holding the more ancient and pre-eminent see, should sit on tlie king's right hand, his brother of York on tlie left, with their crosses remain- ing near them. In councils and convocations the arch- 1 Williins, ConcHia;\\. 284. ^ ^,,^^ <^^^^^ j^ 74. ^viHiinB, iii. 31. 86 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. bishop of Canterbury sliould occupy the first place or higher seat, the archbishop of York another second to it. In a wide place the cross-bearers of the two pri- mates should advance precisely side by side. In door- ways or narrow places the cross of Canterbury should precede, the other follow.' Such was the end of the strife, seven hundred years after York attained Metro- poHtan rank. The wrath of Almighty God, and the blessed Apostles Peter and Paul, was invoked on anyone who should presume to tamper with the settlement. But to return to the episcopal arrangements of Saxon times. An attempt was made to obtain an arch- bishopric for Mercia. It was not doomed to be per- manently successful, though for a time it prevailed. Offa,^ king of Mercia, ' the terrible,' as the Welsh called him, reduced all England south of the Humber under his authority in the latter part of the eighth century. He was addressed on equal terms by no less a personage than Charlemagne. Kent no longer held high rank in England. Its kings were vassals of Mercia or of Wessex. Why should its bishop exercise primacy over those of greater kingdoms ? Thus taking umbrage at the Kent- ish primacy, OfTa succeeded in procuring for his own bishopric of Lichfield the rank of the Metropohtan see of his kingdom. The property- of the archbishop of Canterbury within the Mercian kingdom was seized, and after some difficulty and great expenditure in bribing the Eoman officials, the desired pall was sent from Eome. The province of Canterbury was divided. The country south of the Thames, with London, was assigned to Canterbury, whilst the east and centre of England were to constitute the new province of Lichfield. In gratitude for the concession. King OfFa granted a sub- ^ Palgrave, iv. ARCHBISHOPRIC OF LICHFIELD. 87 sidy to Eome, which became the foundation of the well- known ' Peter's pence.' But Offa died, and in 799, Kenulph or Cynewulf, king of Mercia, restored to Can- terbury its primacy and plundered estates. Thus Lichfield relapsed into its subordinate position. In a synod held at Cloveshoo ^ 803, it was pronounced that ' the see archiepiscopal from this time forward never should be in the monastery of Lichfield, nor in any other place but the city of Canterbury, where Christ's Church is, and where the Catholic faith first shone forth in this island. Further also, we do, by con- sent and license of our apostohcal Lord Pope Leo, forbid the charter sent from Eome by Pope Adrian, and the pall and the see archiepiscopal in the monastery of Lichfield to be of any validity, because gotten by surreption and insincere suggestions.' It is said that the ofiice of archdeacon is mentioned in England for the first time about this same era. The fullest ^ Hst of bishops present at this synod of Cloveshoo, which finally confirmed the primacy of Can- terbury, will give the number of the Saxon sees until they were disturbed by the Danish invasions : Canterbury Winchester Lichfield Elmham Leicester Dunwich Sidnacester (Lincoln) London Worcester Rochester Hereford Selsey Sherborne It will be observed that Mercia ranks next to Can- terbury, and then Wessex. The Archbishop of York, with his three sufii'agans of Hexham, Lindisfarne, and Whiterne, was not there. But the synod was one of the 1 Haddan and StiiLbs, iii. 54^3. ^ n^i^., iii. 64G. 88 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. province of Canterbury, and was held under tlie autho- rity of the Mercian king. \ But it cannot be asserted that this hst contains any recognised order of precedence, for signatures to other documents may be cited marslialled in a different manner. Indeed the very act ^ of this Council which abolished the archbishopric of Lichfield was subscribed in the folio winsf order : Canterbury Sherborne Worcester Lichfield Winchester Selsey Leicester London Dunwich Elmham Sidnacester Hereford Another famous name in this age is that of Alcuin, one of Archbishop Egbert's disciples at York. Having been sent on an embassy to Charlemagne, that emperor attached him to his court, and employed him in carry- ing out his efforts for the revival of learning in his dominions. He died at the abbey of St. Martin, at Tours, in 804. He wrote on sciences and art, and a considerable number of letters and poems addressed by him to Charlemagne are extant, and are useful in illus- trating the history of that period. Thus through Alcuin the Anglo-Saxon school of learning reproduced itself on the Avider field of Europe. He is still justly esteemed for clearness of judgment, and for a more pure and chastened style than most of his contempo- raries. The famous Carohne Books of Charlemagne have been commonly attributed to Alcuin. Dean Mil- man 2 says : — ' It is difficult not to attribute them to Alcuin, the only known writer equal to the task.' But they were put forth by the authority of the Emperor. Alcuin was present at the Council of Frankfort, held ^ Haddan and Stubbs^ iii. 544. ^ £atm Chnstianity, v. 1. ALCUIN AND CHAELEMAGNE. 89 under the presidency of Charlemagne. That Council and the Carohne Books boldly set aside the doctrine of image-worship recently reasserted by the second Council of Nic^a and supported by the authority of the reigning pope. This is another instance of the con- tradictory facts which meet us in these ages when dealing with the growth of the yet unsettled and un- ascertained papal power before the false decretals had obtained currency. The subjects treated in this chapter have led of necessity to a somewhat discursive treatment. They have led us from the seventh into the eighth cen- tury, the early part of which was the glory of the Anglo-Saxon Church. But its close proved fatal to that early dawn of learning and piety. The restraints of morality and religion were broken through, and civil dissensions rent the Saxon states asunder. Pro- fligacy and disunion made the country an easy prey to the Northmen, who soon commenced those pre- datory inroads which for a time ruined learning and religion together. If other record of this decay were lost, the earnest expostulations of Alcuin would suf- ficiently testify to the general dissoluteness of man- ners. Writing to the King of Northumbria and other leading personages from his adopted home in France, he pleads ^ earnestly in his still extant letters for some check to the prevailing neglect and immorality. But the warnings fell on heedless ears, and the Enghsh Church and people were to suffer the direst scourge of foreign invasion. They ' fell into the hand of man,' the fate which the Psalmist-king so earnestly deprecated for his people. 1 Haddan and Stubbs, iii. 1192, &c. 90 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. CHAPTEE IV. THE SAINTS OF THE ANGLO-SAXON CHUECH. Canonisation of old was the result of an irregular popular or monkish suffrage. In some cases the in- stinct was right which recognised a life of pecuhar use- fulness and holiness. But in many we can scarcely discern a trace of either through the grotesque legends which have gathered round the venerated names. It was not till the tenth century that the popes reserved to themselves the right of adding new saints to the Calendar. Yet the popular voice made itself heard for many centuries after this, and the people instinctively elevated to the saintly rank those who (as they deemed) had suffered for them. Sometimes their persistence suc- ceeded, and the ecclesiastical confirmation followed the people's vote. Sometimes it was but a fleeting fancy, and was in due time quenched by the authorities. Strange illustrations might readily be given. When the great leader Simon de Montfort fell at Evesham, the cry of the people went up, ' Holy Simon, pray for us.' The monk Matthew Paris speaks of him as falhng for ' the cause of justice and truth,' and says it was re- ported ' that Simon, after his death, was distinguished by the working of many miracles, which, however, were not made known, for fear of kings.' Obviously, if the following years had been different, De Montfort the patriot might have been St. Simon of Evesham. ST. ERKENWALD. . 91 Stranger still is the story told by Fox of a certain priest, possibly a Lollard, burned for heresy on Tower Hill in 1439. The people beheved that he had uttered a prophecy before his death, and began to make pil- grimage to the spot where he perished. It needed a royal proclamation and the vigorous action of lord mayor and sheriffs to stop the movement. The people in those days had not faith in their priests, but they were just what the superstition of the priests had made them. So, if it had not been for the interposition of authority, there might have been a St. Richard Wiche, prophet and martyr. But in the earlier days now under consideration authority had not much to say in the matter of registry on the great roll of saintly intercessors. The local saints found ready admission, and the antiquary is sorely at fault to give any account of multitudes of Irish and other names which encumber the hst. But besides these, the earher years of Enghsh Chris- tianity were fruitful in men sufficiently notable amongst their fellows to be distinguished after death by the saintly title. St. Aidan, St. Chad, St. Augustine of Can- terbury, and others have been already noticed. There are others of some renown. No one of any historical perception ought to enter St. Paul's Cathedral Avithout remembering St. Erkenwald, consecrated Bishop of London in 675 ^ by Archbishop Theodore. He was (practically speaking) the founder of the famous see of London, the first who may be distinctly styled its bishop after the flight of Mellitus. The Cathedral Church still possesses estates confirmed to it by alleged Saxon char- ters reaching back to his days. There were stories of miracles wrought by chips from his litter in the days of 1 W. Malmes., De Gest. Fontif., ii. 92 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. Bede.^ Grotesque enough are some of the legends of this Saxon saint. Travelhng in a two-wheeled car among the forests of Middlesex or Essex, he lost one of the wheels. The car, however, disobeying the laws of gravity, balanced itself and the bishop on the remaining wheel, and carried him safely on his errand. He died in Essex. The people of London and the monks of Chertsey contended for his remains. The river Lea was swollen by a tempest, and neither boat nor bridge offered a passage. Essex might seem to claim the sacred deposit. But no ! As the htany was chanted the river subsided,^ and the London cathedral gained the treasure. And a treasure it was. Li subsequent days it was laid in a shrine gleaming with gold behind the high altar. If the very dust was beheved to have healing virtues, it may be guessed what the offerings at the shrine might be. St. Erkenwald was a great London saint up to the very eve of the Eeformation. Eabyan, alderman and historian, tells a story of his own days which may at once illustrate this, and show the irritable greatness of a lord mayor four centuries ago.^ ' The mayor, being at St. Paul's kneeling in his devotions at St. Erkenwald's shrine, Eobert By field, one of the sheriffs, unadvisedly kneeled down nigh unto the said mayor. Whereof the said mayor after reasoned him and laid it to his charge. But that other, being some deal rude for lack of cunning, answered the mayor stubbornly, and would not own his offence. Wherefore the mayor showed his behaviour both of words and deeds unto the bench, by authority whereof the said Eobert was fined one pound, to be paid toward the reparation of the conduits.' * Bede, iv. G. ^ Milmau, Annals of St. Paul's Cathedral. ' Fabyan in aim. 1477. ST. S WITHIN. 93 St. Swithin, bishop of Winchester 852-862, has fared better than St. Erkenwald in tlie popular recollec- tion. His legendary history is of the usual character of such compilations. William of Malmesbury, writing about fifty years after the Conquest, dwells with ad- miration on a story with which lie illustrates this pre- late's merciful disposition. ' Workmen were repairing a bridge on the east side of Winchester, and the bishop had seated himself near them that he might urge on the loiterers. And there came along the bridge a woman bringing eggs for the market. The workmen, with the usual rudeness of such people, in sheer mischief broke every egg in her basket. In her miserable condition, the httle ragged old woman was brought before the bishop, who heard her complaint with pity. And not in vain, for he forthwith made the sign of the cross over the wreck, and every egg became Avhole again.' If St. Swithin left behind him the tradition of a cha- racter in harmony with this legendary tale, he deserved not to be forgotten. To redress wrongs, and to care for the helpless, is a part well becoming the Christian statesman and bishop. Though alas ! the larger part of the evils wrought, whether by petulance or carelessness, is as much past remedy as the broken eggs ; and there is not to be found a St. Switliin to make them whole asfain. As a last request, we learn on the same authority, he pledged those who stood round his dying bed to lay his body outside the churcli, where his grave might be exposed to the feet of the passers by and to the rains from heaven. So he died, and tliis ' pearl of God lay in inglorious concealment about a hundred years.' Then the saint changed liis mind, and appeared in a vision requiring the removal of his remains. So they were enslirined at Winchester with great pomp. The 94 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. 15tli of July was kept as tlie anniversary of this ' trans- lation.' The popular belief still connects that day with the copious rainfall which the dying bishop had willed to fall on his humble grave. In his true history Swithin was an active statesman, the trusted servant of Kino- Esfbert, and the chief adviser of King Ethelwolf. Whether the skies wept or not, England had cause to mourn when he was removed, and homestead and shrine were scorched with the Danish fires. Aldhelm, as one of the earliest of the band of Enghsh scholars, has found mention in his place. But there is the other side of his story likewise. There is the St. Aldhelm, in whose glory the monks of the an- cient monastery of Malmesbury rejoiced. William of Malmesbury, one of the best of that remarkable series of monastic historians who have preserved for us the chronicles of mediaaval times, dwells with characteristic ardour on the life of this, their most ancient worthy.^ That he was learned, pious, and accomplished was not enough for the monastery. He must also be a saint according to monastic measure. And such a saint is depicted in full detail. The annahst confesses indeed ingenuously that he can appeal to no ancient document, but urges that he has unbroken local tradition for what he will relate. Like St. Cuthbert, this saint, heedless of the winter's frost and the night fogs of summer, im- mersed himself up to his shoulders in an adjacent spring while he recited the Psalter. This was certainly a prodigious miracle of bodily constitution ; but he had peculiar mastery over the waters, inasmuch as not a drop of rain would fall within the ruinous and roofless walls of a church which he had built at Wareliam, whatever tempest might rage around. ^ G'estd Pontif., v. ST. ALDHELM. 95 But the favourite miracle of St. Aldlielm is the follow- ing :— They were building the church of St. Michael, and the walls were now ready for the roof, the beams of which had been prepared. They had all been cut to one mea- sure ; but alas ! through some carelessness, or ' rather by divine providence,' one of them proved too short. The workmen were in despair ; the beams had cost much money, and had been brought from a great distance through a roadless country, at yet greater expense. They shrank from the labour of transporting another. Aldhelm was called. He prayed silently ; there was a slight movement of his arm ; the beam became equal to the others, and the roof was completed. Twice did tlie miraculous beam escape when in the days of Alfred and of Edward the monastery was burned. But age and decay prevailed, and the chronicler confesses that it had perished before his day. After this why need it be told that the attendant failing to hold his chasuble when he slipped it from his shoulders after mass, it fell not, but remained suspended in the air on a sunbeam which entered through a window ? Thus did monastic rivalry heap legend upon legend on the favoured saint ; and thus did the shrine of St. Aldhelm in Malmesbury draw pilgrims in abundance, and therewith no trifling offer- ings, to that ancient abbey. The story of St. Dunstan the saint as distinguished from Dunstan the statesman is not easy to disentangle ; and, indeed, from the very first, there seems to have been in liim some vein of occasional madness wliich makes his character a puzzle to historians. He was successively abbot of Glastonbury, bisliop of Worcester and of London, and lastly archbisliop of Canter- bury 960-988. His advocacy of the monastic hfe, and his efforts to increase tlie stringency of its rules. 96 HISTOEY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. have insured liim the favour of monkish chroniclers, and the reputation of a profusion of miracles, some of which usually find their way into the popular histories. Th^ number of churches dedicated to his name testifies to his renown. But among the Canterbury saints one more must be enumerated, named among the ' black-letter days : ' Ajyril 19, Alphege Ahp. He held the see of Canterbury from 1006 to 1012. In his days England was reduced to the lowest ebb, when Ethelred was on the throne and the Danes ravaged at their pleasure. In 1011 they besieged Canterbury. It Avas captured by treason, and the archbishop fell into their hands. They were hands which knew no mercy, and probably Florence of Worces- ter, who wrote about a hundred years afterwards, has not exaggerated in telling the horrible story of the sack of Canterbury. Alphege, or Elphege, was too precious a capture to be summarily disposed of The Enghsh might ransom their archbishop at some great price ; so the Danes held him in strait bondage until the following year. On Easter Eve they offered him hfe and hberty on the payment of three thousand pounds ; but the archlDishop refused to be the means of extorting such a sum from his impoverished people. The next Saturday he was brought forth from his dungeon into the midst of a riotous assembly. There he was beaten with battleaxes and the bones of the animals on which they had been feasting, until one of them in mercy clove the prelate's skull. So fell Elphege. There are some rather faint assertions of miracles following his death, and all good Saxons held him for a martyr. Certainly he died a patriot's death. When Normans held rule in Canterbury, and Saxon patriots were in small esteem, an attempt was made to rob Elphege of his honour as ST. EDMUND. 97 saint and martyr ; but the more generous spirits pre- vailed, and the Saxon archbishop retained his place in the Calendar. Tliere were several royal saints in those bygone days, but the most famous of them was St. Edmund. His name may be found among the ' black-letter ' days, ' Nov. 20, Edmund, king and martyr.' The record of his death in the Saxon Chronicle is brief and stern : ' A.D. 870. This winter King Edmund fought against them, and the Danes got the victory and slew the king, and subdued all the land, and destroyed all the minsters they came to.' It is said ^ that one of his bodyguard afterwards told the story of his master's death in this wise : After his defeat Edmund had been dragged from his place of concealment. The merciless Danes bound him to a tree, and made him a mark for their arrows, with heathen jests urging him to deny his faith. Wearied with his constancy the Danish leader beheaded him, and he was privately buried by his sorrowing people. Thus Edmund became not only of patriot but also of saintly memory, and St. Edmund's Bury, or Bury St. Edmund's, was afterwards the richest monastery in the east country. When Canute the Dane became sole monarch of England, and learned to trust his Enijlisli people as they trusted and were loyal to him, he re- membered the English saints whom the Danes liad slain. Then was the body of the martyred Archbishop Elphege taken up from its tomb in London, and escorted by Canute and his queen, and the nobles and clergy, until they bore him into his cathedral at Canterbury.'^ ' There they laid St. Elphege's holy body on the north side of Christ's altar, to the glory of God, and the * Palgrare. " SaA'on Chronicle , a.d. 1028. H 98 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. honour of the holy archbishop, and the eternal health of all those who there daily seek to his holy body with a devout heart, and with all humility. God Almighty have mercy on all Christian men through St. Elphege's holy merits.' Then also it was that St. Edmund was remembered, and Canute founded, or refounded, the monastery which held his remains. Great were its privileges, ample its estates. Few, if any, of the great abbeys of England surpassed it in splendour or in power. It need scarcely be added to this that the legend of St. Edmund, as told in the monastery, assumed large proportions. The romance of St. Edmund, found in the Chro= nicies ^ written two centuries after the Norman Conquest, is one upon which the writers expended no little artistic skill. Eegarded not as history, but as a specimen of the historical novel of that day, cast into the form which was then cultivated, it is full of interest and possesses a beauty of its own. A royal Dane is brought into the land of East Anglia by one of the favourite contrivances of these ecclesiastical romancists, a boat which has drifted out to sea, and at last comes ashore in Norfolk. He is brought to the king's court, where he is beloved by Edmund, and learns every kingly accomphshment. At last he is treacherously slain by the king's huntsman, and the murder is discovered by the agency of the Dane's faithful dog, which will not leave its master. The huntsman is condemned to the same fate as that which had befallen the Dane ; and being sent adrift in the same boat, without oars or sail, he floats to the coast of Denmark. The boat is recognised, and the huntsman being seized and tortured, accuses King * Roger of Wendover, Matthew of Westminster. THE LEGEND OF KING EDMUND. 99 Edmund of having murdered the lost prince. Then follows the Danish vengeance, and East Angha is ravaged with fire and massacre. Edmund musters his forces, and a i^itclied battle ensues near Thetford, waged with mutual slaugliter through the livelong day. Edmund regards the carnage with horror, sorrowing not only for his own comrades who had attained the crown of martyrdom, but also for the wretched heathen who had been hurled into tlie gulf of hell. He resolves that he will fight no more, and declares that he alone must die for his people. So it was that Edmund fell into his enemies' hands, who tied him to a tree and scourged and insulted him whilst he called upon Christ. Then they shot at him with arrows, leaving not a place in his body in which a fresh wound could be inflicted. Yet he hved and confessed Christ, until the sword of the executioner struck off the martyr's head. The body was found by the sorrowing Christians, but they long sought in vain for the head, until as they wandered through the woods the head itself called to them, ' Here, here ! ' and there it was, safely guarded by a huge wolf. Then were the remains buried in all honour, and years afterwards, when ' the land rested from war,' they were found with no mark of corruption. Nay, the head was reunited to the body ; only a scarlet hue appeared round the neck, a symbol of martj^rdom. It is a Avild story, told not witliout grace and sweet- ness as the clironiclers dwell on its incidents. It may even have done some good in its day, as possibly some of our own works of fiction may do, by putting into the hearts of some of the old mail-clad men thouglits of ruth and tenderness, and of a courage of yet higher tone tlian that which strikes down its foes in the battle-field. It may have done tliis. Yet woe to the Cliurcli which ]iolds H 2 100 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. falsehood for religion, and supports its faith by a lie ! If there is a lawful field for the play of human fancy, yet let it be remembered when it was said, and who said, ' For this cause came I into the world that I might bear witness unto the truth' After the utmost allow- ance has been made for the different training of the mind in past ages — after giving to imagination full room and amplest scope — it is with sorrow and shame that the reflection is forced on the mind that Christ is thus dishonoured, and His cause damaged by those who would be His friends. The same strange compound of credulity and imposture works still in rumoured miracles that none can test but milhons beheve. The reason of the intelligent, in thousands of instances, shocked and violated, lapses into absolute unbehef. The miracles of the Saviour Himself, outdone or cari- catured by the saintly prodigies, fall into the same gulf of negation, strangled and utterly submerged by the mass of incredible fiction clinging around them. Of all human lies the falsehoods of hagiology will have most to answer for when the terrible account of un- behef shall be rendered at last. The more prominent female saints of this era were of royal or noble extraction, who established nunneries on which they conferred ample endowments. Amongst these may be especially noted St. Hilda of Whitby, who died in 687. St. Etheldreda (corrupted into Awdry in popular English) was the foundress of the monastery at Ely, where the bishopric was subsequently esta- blished. She died in 679. St. Ethelburga was another of these recluse ladies ; the fact of her being sister of St. Erkenwald has perhaps secured her London fame to this day. Her nunnery was the famous one at Bark- ing, in Essex, St. Frideswide, in like manner, was one BURIAL PLACE OF TPIE APtCIIBISHOPS. 101 of tlie eighth century ladies, who was honoured before the Eeformation in what is now the cathedral church of Oxford. Tliose who list may read the stories of these ladies in Butler's ' Lives of the Saints.' They lived according to the approved mediaeval pattern of sanctity, and the history of one scarcely varies from that of another as he tells it. In such an age the burial place of venerated Chris- tians was not only surrounded by those sentiments of regard which are inseparable from human nature, but it was the source of abundant wealtli to its guardians. For a century and a half the monastery founded by Augustine at Canterbury had been the resting-place of the archbishops and kings of Kent. Archbishop Cuth- bert, in the middle of the eighth century, having en- larged and adorned his cathedral, resolved that this, rather than the monastery, should be his own burial- place. It is best to give the story of that which fol- lowed upon Archbishop Cuthbert's resolution, as it was told five hundred years afterwards by William Thorne,^ monk of St. Augustine's in the time of Eichard II. Most fondly loyal was William Tliorne to his ancient abbey. Good and true, in his pages, are those who befriended it. Evil men, and wortliy of terrible epi- thets, are those archbishops who touched its privileges. It may be, therefore, that the remembrance of this an- cient wrong heightened the indignation which trembled through his fingers as he wrote ; but in the main it cannot be doubted that he gives a true representation of an ancient record in his abbey. In this wise the change of sepulchre of the Kentish primates assumed a colour of almost tragic interest as the loyal monk de- picted the ancient grief. ' In the year 748 the arch- ^ Decern Scn'jyfores, ] 772-1774. 102 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. bishop perceived his end approaching, and the moment to be at hand when his long-conceived guile against the Church of Augustine should see the light. He laid himself down in his church ; he bound under an oath all his attendants that they would not divulge his sickness or his death. No bell was to be tolled, no funeral rites celebrated, until some days should have passed after his burial. On the third day the bell was tolled, and the ab- bot of St. Augustine's heard that the archbishop had de- parted. He came to carry off the body with accustomed honour ; but he found the burial long over, and was told that the king's authority had broken through the ancient custom. Distressed and anxious the abbot withdrew, a disappointed man. Bregwin succeeded Cuthbert, and followed his fox-like footsteps. He also died in secrecy, and was privately buried near his predecessor. Then, at length, the bell tolled also for him ; and the abbot of St. Augustine's came with a band of armed retainers, to take by force, if need be, the body of the archbishop. But he was already in his grave, and the abbot returned empty-handed home again. Appeals were threatened to the pope, and Abbot Jambert was made archbishop as a measure of conciliation. He left it as his last com- mand that he should he in the church of St. Peter and St. Paul, among his holy predecessors. So his body was given up for burial, and he was the last of the archbishops who was laid in St. Augustine's Abbey, A.D. 789. After that time the monks of that abbey through excessive simplicity neglected so precious a privilege, and made no complaint or appeal to king or pope. So through their stolid simphcity they lost for ever the honour, and their church was no more the sepulchre of the archbishops.' If William Thorne could have looked onward a century and a half, he might EARLY ENGLISH MISSIONArJES. 103 have lamented less over that ancient vexation, and deemed the cathedral the safer, as it was the more be- fitting, resting-place. Hardly a vestige of the great church of St. Augustine'^ Abbey can be traced, with all its marvellous stores of the sainted dead. But the cathedral still shelters the crowd of historical remains gathered under its pavement. The sentiment of due honour to the departed can never be deemed erroneous as long as the story of Machpelah shall stand in the sacred page. Yet when ' that day ' shall arrive it will matter Httle to the thronging archbishops whether they rise to their w^ondrous meeting from the marble pave- ment of the cathedral, or from the crumbling soil where once the church of St. Augustine's Abbey reared its imposing front. But the early Enghsh Church produced not a few men of higher devotion, and more active rehgious zeal, than most of those who have been so far named in tms chapter. In the days of its first vigour its missionaries explored with success the heathen lands of Europe. During his troubles, Wilfrid had carried on a brief missionary work in Friezeland, wliich then included the larger part of modern Holland. But this left few traces behind. Wilhbrord ^ was one of the monks of Eipon, who having sojourned in Ireland, then a seat of monastic learning, was induced to lead a company of missionary brethren on the enterprise of converting Friezeland, 690. He became Archbishop of Utrecht, and died after a long episcopate in 739. There is nothing of very marked interest connected with the history of his labours, nor is it clear to wliat extent they were suc- cessful. Certainly, the history of Boniface shows that ^ Neander, v. 55. 104 HISTOEY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. mucli was left to be done in Friezeland. The latter, the most celebrated of the early Enghsh missionaries, was a priest of Devonshire origin, named Winfred, though better known by his ecclesiastical name, Boni- face. He also made his way into Friezeland, 715, but was compelled to abandon the country. He afterwards visited Eome, and thenceforward united to his former zeal an almost equal fervour of subjection to the Papacy. Eeturning northward, he acted as coadjutor to Willi- brord, at Utrecht, for three years. Thence he proceeded into Germany, and having attained great success among the Saxon and Hessian races, invited men and women from England in considerable numbers to follow up his work. He was now made MetropoHtan of Germany, with his see at Mentz, on the Ehine. But he resigned his bishopric to a fellow-countryman, and went forth himself once more as a simple missionary to the land in which his first apostohcal labours had been wrought, and where since the death of Wilhbrord Christianity had languished. It Avas in 755 that he descended the Ehine again, and landed in Friezeland. There a heathen multitude fell upon him, and he received a martyr's death in the seventy-fifth year of his age. There was a somewhat active correspondence main- tained between Boniface and the kings and bishops of his native land. Tlie tidings of his martyrdom drew forth a letter of sympathy from Cuthbert, Archbishop of Canterbury, to the Primate of Germany, which will show among other things that the papal canonization was not yet a necessary form. ' In our general synod,' says ^ the archbishop, ' we have determined to celebrate annually liis martyrdom. He is one wdiom Ave sj)ecially seek as our patron, together with the blessed Gregory ^ Haddan aud Stubbs^iii. 391. EARLY ENGLISH MISSIONARIES. 105 and Augustine. We believe him to be with Christ, whom in his life he always loved, and whom in his death he glorified.' While thus touching on the brief missionary activity of our Saxon forefathers, it may be interesting to give from Alcuin the order of teaching recommended to them : ' This order should be preserved in teaching adults : 1. They should be instructed in the immor- tality of the soul, in the future life, in its retribution of good and evil, and in the eternal duration of both con- ditions. 2. They should then be informed for what sins and causes they will have to suffer with the devil everlasting punishment, and for what good and benefi- cent deeds they will enjoy unceasing glory with Christ. 3. The faith of the Holy Trinity is then to be most dihgently taught, and the coming of the Saviour inty the world for the salvation of the human race. After*- w^ards impress the mystery of His passion, the truth of His resurrection. His glorious ascension, ffis future advent to judge all nations, and tlie resurrection of our bodies. Thus prepared and strengthened, the man may be baptized.' Tlie judgment of readers upon this advice will no doubt vary according to their theological prepossessions. The expressions about the merit of good works would at least seem to need some readjustment for those who accept the teaching of the eleventh and twelfth articles of our Church. Those who are versed in the missionary history of modern times will call to mind the failure of the Moravians in Greenland as long as they continued some such methodical mode of instruction, and the sudden and blessed results when they tried the simple story of Christ sacrificed. But we need not suppose that Alcuin's instructions run counter to this. There is 106 HISTOEY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. evidence that the crucified Saviour was in those days often, at -least, the attraction which, according to His own word, ' drew all men to Him.' These notes must be taken as forming the heads of the catechetical in- struction which should be given to the converts in pre- paring them for baptism, and it is from this point of view that they must be judged. It is a meagre sketch to give of the old Saxon worthies, but the scope of this work will allow no more. And indeed it may be doubted if the heroic life of Boniface was half so dear to the unwholesome reli- gious taste of that age as the legendary lives of the monastic saints who fought in sohtude with more ter- rible foes than the Frisians, the powers of darkness. No more typical example could well be selected than the life of the renowned Cuthbert, the great Northum- brian saint. None could be mentioned more character- istic of the prevalent tone of that age. The Venerable Bede dwells fondly on his hfe in the pages of his history, and has besides written his biography. Bede Avrites with much reverence for the great Eoman Church and its lordly emissaries who sat in the chair of Canterbury. But his love and his cordial admiration are lavished on the northern saints of his own Northumbria. Even when they were tainted, as was Aidan, with that much lamented irregularity about keeping Easter, Bede's strict orthodoxy yields to admiring love for their sainthness. And when that barrier is removed and he can speak of them as accepting the Eoman rule, he sets no bounds to the warmth of his admiration. It must be remembered that Bede was probably about twelve or thirteen years old when Cuthbert died. He expressly states that he received his information from those who personally knew the saint and were associated with him. Legend LIFE OF ST. CUTHBERT. 107 in that age was of no tardy growth, but sprang up hke Jonah's gourd. The substance of Bede's story of St. Cuthbert is as follows : — Cuthbert belonged to the race of those hardy borderers then (or at any rate recently) united under the Northumbrian sceptre, but centuries after divided by bitter feuds. It does not appear certain on which side of the Tweed he was born ; his religious life was spent on either side of that since famous boundary. He is described as possessing an active and vigorous frame and a ready wit ; and it is said that he was induced to give himself to God's service from the age of eight years. Of his early life we are told little. A stranger on horseback advised a poultice for a painful swelling on his knee ; the prescription succeeded, and the devout imagination afterwards represented the horse and rider as possessing marvellous beauty. Be- yond doubt it was an angel of God, for did not angels come on horseback to the defence of Judas Maccabeus and the temple of God ? Another incident throws Hght on the lingering heathenism, the persistency of which is discerned Avith difficulty througli the quivering haze of monkish history. One day some monks were floating rafts of timber down the Tyne for the supply of their monastery near the mouth of that river. A strong west wind, united with the rapid ebb, prevented them making the shore at the desired place, and tliey drifted out to sea. In vain the assembled brethren prayed on the shore, the live rafts were driven out to sea ' until they appeared as if they were five little birds,' and ' the populace jeered at the monks as if those who despised the common laws of mortals, and who had introduced a new and unknown law of life, deserved to suffer such a calamity.' Cuthbert remonstrated, but they replied, 108 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. ' Let no man ])t^j for them ; may God have pity on none of those j)ersons, who have taken away our old worship, and no one knows how to observe the new.' Hereupon Cuthbert prayed, and ' forthwith the violence of the winds being turned round brought the rafts in safety to the beach, together with those who guided them.' The impression made on the minds of the scoffing country folk is recorded. After this a series of events follow, partly natural circumstances, to which a miraculous tone is given, partly visions and prodigies which seem to have been the natural pro- duction of brains deprived of proj)er nutriment and excited by continued sohtude. They are heard of but little apart from monkish austerities, but appear almost inseparable from them from the very first. Cuthbert sees a light and hears choirs of the angels during some long vigils, and it is found afterwards that it Avas the soul of St. Aidan himself then ascending into heaven. He persists in a severe fast on a journey, and afterwards wonderfully discovers meat and bread. After this it seems he became a monk in the abbey of the famous Melrose, from whence he was removed to Eipon, then a new monastery. There he washed the feet of a guest, who proved to be an angel, for he was missing on Cuthbert's return, and left behind him three loaves of marvellous whiteness and odour. Henceforward Cuth- bert, who had happy gifts of speech and narration, was accustomed to hint that he was one of the highly favoured ones who often spoke with heavenly visitants. Cuthbert, however, was not wanting in more evangelical work. He was zealous for the conversion of the sur- rounding people Avho are spoken of as apostatising in times of calamity and resorting anew to heathen cere- monies. His personal influence is described as being LIFE OF ST. CUTHBERT. 109 of tlie highest order. ' So great was his skill in teach- ing,' says the historian,^ ' so vast was his j)ower of loving persuasion, such the light of his angelic coun- tenance, that no one in his presence dared to conceal from him the secrets of his heart, thinking that none of his misdeeds were concealed from him. He was wont also to preach in remote villages far from the world in wild and horrible mountain regions.' A strange legend follows. Cuthbert walked into the sea by night, and there remained in prayer, im- mersed to his neck. In the morning he came forth, and concluded his prayer kneeling on the shore. Two seals or otters followed him from the deep, and fondly warmed his feet with their breath, and wiped them with their hair. Some prying monk is said to have watched the scene, and to have revealed it after the death of Cuthbert. From Melrose he was transferred to Lindisfarne, or the Holy Island, the favoured seat of Aidan and other northern saints. There he is said to have been diligent in preaching to the neighbouring peasantry. But his chief duty was to reduce the monks to a more settled order of observances. In this we are told he met with irritating opposition, but that he overcame it all by the grace of patience, and unwearied placid firmness, ' amidst all distress bearing a cheerful countenance.' The influence of such a man could not be gainsay ed. Some years were passed in such occupations as these. But in tlie estimation of that age there was a higher Hfe still. It was not in community with others, not in evangelising labours, not in ordinary self-denial, that the most favoured saints were deemed to have gained their celestial honours. The hfe of utter soh- 1 Bede, Life of St. Cuthbert, c. ix. 110 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. tude, where the lonely devotee lived face to face with God, was that higher life, and to this Cuthbert aspired. Not satisfied with ordinary austerities, he withdrew himself to the islet of Fame, separated by the stormy ocean from the adjacent Holy Island. There he con- structed a rude dwelling and lived in strict solitude, not without the personal neglect and filth which all good monks and hermits consider essential to holiness. There the very birds obey him, and two crows humbly request his pardon for meddling with his thatch. His fame now spread widely, and persons afflicted with de- moniacal temptations came to him for relief, and re- ceived consolation. It cannot be surprising that in the visionary lives of these saints the excited fancy peopled the air with demons in even visible forms. The terrors of such a life can only be known to those who have sur- vived it. About the year 684 he was appointed to the bishopric of Lindisfarne, and reluctantly removed from his hermitage. Various miracles were attributed to him, and it is asserted in general terms that he devoted himself to the duties of his office. But his episcopacy was of very short duration ; he returned to his hermit- age, and there falling ill, he was discovered in a dying state by some monks who visited the island. He said that for five days he had been nourished by occasionally biting an onion which he had by him, and that his spi- ritual foes had never been more violent. His parting charge was to inculcate charity and peace amongst themselves, and to hold no communion with those who did not keep Easter at the proper time. He was buried in the Holy Island, and his remains Were after- wards removed, as the picturesque legend tells, to Dur- ham, where the shrine of St. Cuthbert was the most famous in all the north country until the Eeformation. MONASTIC MIRACLES. Ill It is a sad history of misplaced faith, and misdirected energy. There had been propagated throughout Christendom one pattern of sanctity for the three pre- ceding centuries. The hfe of each saint reproduced with shght variations the austerities and miracles of his predecessors. Miracles were expected as the endow- ments of a life of austerity as naturally as the ordinary actions of other men. What men expect they can ge- nerally find, or persuade themselves they have found ; and the stories which reach the recluse himself, of strange influences which have gone forth from him, quickly persuade him that he is not as other men, but one of the sacred band on whose bidding angels wait. But indeed in that age fasting was regarded as a dynamic in the spiritual world, potent to effect almost any object. It is noted of Adamnan ^ that he had been fastincr, im- mersed in a river, against a certain potentate who had wronged him, but there was no result, for his adversary protected himself by fasting also. The saint at last prevailed by throwing the sinner off his guard, so that his own unresisted fast could work out its full effect against him. How much of the Gospel of Christ infused its healing power amidst this mass of rank superstition, it is not easy to say. We can only call to mind the word which assures us that when the ' wood, liay, and stubble ' of man's addition shall be consumed by the fire of God's presence, the foundation will remain, and the silver and gold and precious marbles built upon it shall endure. So may it be witli numy a poor self-tor- turing soul, which, after all, with however mucli doubt- fulness, was really resting on Christ. It is difficult for an Englishman of the nineteenth century to form an accurate judgment of tlie condition ^ Reeve, Adamnan, Preface, p. liv. 112 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND, of his forefathers twelve centuries ago. Probably no race now living on the earth is precisely in the same stage of civilisation as they were then. The advanced races have risen higher in the scale, the degraded have dropped lower and lower in savageness. We can there- fore only ask, without attempting too close a parallel, what would be the ordinary developments of the Christianity of New Zealand or Madagascar apart from trained and educated European influence ? And how far would the traces of old superstitions linger among them ? And in fact with what amount of completeness, and with what freedom from relapse, are idolatrous ideas now extirpated in the most successful missions ? Such considerations of experience as these ought to be in our minds when we attempt to form a judgment on the condition of English Christianity in the seventh century. 113 CHAPTER V. THE LATER HISTORY OF THE ANGLO-SAXOX CHURCH. The accession of Egbert to the throne of Wessex in 800 is the dividing line between the earher and later history of the Anglo-Saxons. Under his leadership the long struggle for supremacy l^etween Mercia and Wessex was terminated. After his victory ^ over the Mercians all the Saxon and British kings became his tributaries. The popular idea that henceforward there was a united England is undoubtedly ver}^ far from the truth. The great Alfred styled himself King of Wessex. Tiie tribal jealousies and divisions made the country a ready prey to the invasions of the Northmen. The Saxon king- doms retained, to a great extent, their several customs and government, and Avere not really Welded into one until they were exposed to the terrible heat of the JSTor- man Conquest. Nevertheless, when an able monarch, an Alfred, or an Athelstane, sat on the throne of Wessex, he was henceforward able to make his power and influence felt througliout the country, and may be fairly considered and spoken of as King of England. With a few such bright intervals, the civil history of the two centuries and a half yet remainilig before the Con- quest is a terrible recital of suffering. During a large part of that period the Nortlimen, or Danes as our his- tories usually style them, ravaged and desolated the country. ' They are always before us ; ^ we always see 1 Palgrave, cb. iv. ^ Palgrave. 114 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. the horizon reddened with flame, we always hear the tramp of war.' In such a condition of the land a con- tinuous or detailed history of the Church would be of limited interest, and it may suflice to note a few leading epochs and characteristics of Saxon times. Passing over other reigns, a pause may well be made at the year 878, when Alfred gained his great victory over the Danes in the west of England, which raised the country from its lowest point of depression. The subsequent treaty by which he ceded to the Danes the north and east of England, on condition of their em- bracing the Christian faith, formed an era in the Church. Thenceforward the Danish element must be taken into account in our ecclesiastical history. At this time it was that the Danish sovereigns granted to the Bishop of Lindisfarne the dominion of all the land between Tyne and Tees.^ In those days it would be nearly all desolate moor and forest. But this was the foundation of the princely estates and jurisdiction of the Bishops of Dur- ham after the Conquest in their County Palatine, within which the power of life and death and the larger part of royal authority were theirs. Gradually, since the Eeformation, they have been shorn of their prerogatives. In our own age the ample residue of their estates has subserved to the endowment of churches for the vast mining population gathered on the moors which concealed wealth of which Dane and Saxon Httle dreamed. The collier of the nineteenth century thus derives bene- fit, after the lapse of a thousand years, from the gift of a Danish chief. The depth of degradation from which Alfred's care lifted his people is a familiar topic. It is most suitably illustrated by extracts from his own preface to his trans- ^ Simeon of Durham. ALFRED'S CARE FOR LEARNING. 115 lation of Gregory's Pastorale, of which the following nearly literal translation is given : ^ — ' It came to me oft in my mind wliat wise men there once were in England, and liow ]iappy times there were, and how the religious men were earnest both about doctrine and about learning, and how people abroad sought wisdom and learning in this land, and how we must now i?et them from without, if we would have them. So clean was it ruined in Eno-land that very few there were on this side Humber who could understand their service in Enghsh, or could declare forth an epistle out of Latin into English, and I ween there were not many beyond Humber. So few such there were that I cannot think of a sino^le one south of Thames when I came to the kingdom. God Almighty be thanked that we now have any teacher in stall . . . When 1 thought of all this, then I also called to mind how I saw ere it was all spoiled and burned, how the churches throughout England were filled with treasures and books, and eke with many of God's ser- vants, and yet the}^ wist little fruit of their books for they could understand nothing of them, for they were not written in their own language. . . . When I had called to mind all this, then wondered I greatly that none of the goodly wise men that once were in England and had fully learned all the books would translate any part of them into their native language. And I then soon again answered myself and said they weened not that ever man should be so reckless and learning so decay. Then thouglit I how the law was erst found in Hebrew tongue, and after the Greeks learned it tliey translated it all into their own speecli, and eke all other books ; and also the Latin-people as soon as they had ^ Wright, BiograpJiifi Brifannira Liferaria, i. 307. I 2 116 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. learned it they translated it all through wise interpreters into their own tongue, and eke all other Christian people translated some part of them into their own languages. ' Therefore me thinketh it better, if you so think, that we also (do the same with) some books which seem most needful for all men to know, that we translate them into the language that we all may know. This may we very easily do with God's help, if we have still- ness for it ; and all the youth of free men in Enghsh- kin, those that have the means, may be put to learning while they may be doing nothing else till first they can well read English writ. Afterwards let people teach further in the Latin tongue those whom they will. When I thought how the learning of the Latin language had fallen out through English-kin, though many could read English writ, then began I among other diverse and manifold affairs of this kingdom to translate into English the book which is named in Latin Pastoralis^ in English Herdsman's book, whilom word for word, whilom meaning for meaning, as I learned it of Pleg- mund my archbishop, and Asser my bishop, and Grim- bold my mass-priest, and John my mass-priest. And to each bishop's see in my kingdom will I send one copy. And I bid in God's name that no one shall take the book from the minster, unknown, as long as there are any learned bishops, as now thank God there are everywhere.' Thus speaks King Alfred for himself of what he had striven to do for the minds and souls of his people amidst his ' manifold business,' and the unspeakable anxieties of restoring a fallen people, and then guarding a realm in constant peril. He was the David and the Solomon of his people in one. Centuries afterwards, when Norman prowess had prevailed, and the Saxon ALFRED'S TRANSLATIONS. 117 tongue was passing into a more modern form, the Eng- lish song remembered liim still :— And eke Alfred, England's shepherd, England's darling. He seems to tell us that he had succeeded in some measure in restoring learning to England. But he found himself obhged to call in foreign scholars, some of whom are named above. Grimbold he brought from Bur- gundy, and made abbot at Winchester. Asser has been generally said to have been brought from St. David's, and appointed to the see of Sherborne. It is also said that the famous John Scotus, known as Erigena, was amongst Alfred's learned associates, but this seems very doubtful. In accordance with the views expressed in his pre- face, Alfred translated several works into English, of which differing hsts have been given. It is related by Asser that he established a school for the young nobles, in which both the English and Latin tongues were taught, and in which they learned to write before they were of an age for manly exercises. To this it has been frequently added that Alfred founded the University of Oxford. This belief has prevailed chiefly on the autho- rity of Camden, the father of English antiquarianism. Indeed, he is hardly content with naming Alfred as a founder ; he ventures to speak of a yet earlier seat of learning on that venerable spot. But the extracts ^ which he introduces from Asser 's life of Alfred, and from another mediseval chronicle, are now regarded as cer- tainly spurious. The comparative security estabhshed by Alfred's ^ Camden, Britannia, on Oxford, 118 HISTORY OF THE CPIURCH OF ENGLAND. successes endured, though not without severe struggles, for about eighty years. Then followed terrible inva- sions, the result of which was the annexation of England for a time to the crown of Denmark. Such an era of disturbance and transition will naturally afford com- paratively few matters of marked ecclesiastical import- ance. If the age of Dunstan be selected for some brief notice, it is not for its intrinsic consequence, but because it bears on some things relating to the condition of the clergy which should not be omitted. How far the monks who accompanied Augustine into England ob- served the Benedictine rule is much disputed. But it is generally admitted that among the other irregularities of the disturbed and corrupt centuries to which we have referred, gross deviations from the strictness of monastic life were widespread and notorious. The secu- lar clergy were also charged with great and general de23arture from purity of hfe as well as from faithfulness to their duties. In this condition of the clergy a move- ment in favour of reform arose. As was natural in that age, it took the form of a revival of monastic fervour. Not only were the monasteries to be reformed, and brought back to the strictness of the Benedictine rule, but an attempt was made in many quarters to reduce to the same rule colleges of secular clergy attached to cathedrals or other of the larger churches. The names chiefly associated with this movement are those of Odo, a Danish convert, who became Archbishop of Canterbury, and Dunstan, the successor of Odo in that see. It may be sufficient thus to hidicate the nature of the struggle which became so envenomed. The result was that the Benedictine rule was firmly established in the great abbeys of England, and that monks replaced the canons in some of the cathedrals. To enter at greater length EDWARD THE CONFESSOR. 119 into the life of Dunstan would be to plunge into a sea of disturbance, of political intrigue, and wretched trickery, the results of which would bear no proportion to the space occupied by the narrative, and which belong rather to the civil than to the ecclesiastical historian. Passing thus hghtly over those disastrous years of Saxon disunion and Danish power, the reign of the last son of Cerdic, the ignoble but sainted Confessor opens on the view. Edward occupied the throne of England from 1042 to 1066, the year in which the battle of Hastings transferred the sceptre to Norman hands. It is a reign which marks not only the passing away of a dynasty, but an epoch of time. Thenceforward must be traced the development of papal and kingly power, the consohdation of territorial sovereignties, the growth of intellectual culture and mercantile enterprise, which were to usher in the subsequent conditions of European society. Most of the changes in this reign, as far as they belong to the purpose of this history, may be more fitly handled when the Norman Conquest itself is approached. The civil historian finds subjects of deep interest in the records of the Confessor's reign, drawn from the contrast between the feeble monarch and the energy, sagacity, and valour of the great Earl Godwin and his greater son Harold, through whom those closing days of Anglo-Saxon power witnessed a remarkable degree of national life and liberty. But to the civil historian we must leave these. We cannot, however, omit to notice the great foundation of Edward at Westminster, which has since become an epitome in stone of English history, which has been ever since the scene of the coro- nation of English monarchs, and in many instances the place of their sepulchres. 120 HISTORY OF THE CHUECH OF ENGLAND. Some little distance from the western gate of London a small monastery had existed from the earliest days of Christianity. It stood on a spot where, between the Thames and a marshy line of some rivulets, a small island offered a site of security. Thorney was its name, which no doubt indicated the nature of the ground. Edward determined that this should be the nucleus of his new foundation, since known from its relation to the capital as West Minster. For some years he devoted the tenth of his revenues to these works. He lived to see his great church completed, but his death-sickness was on him when, on Innocents' day 1065, it was dedicated. A few days after he breathed his last. Some portions of Edward's monastery may be seen in the cloisters and school buildings, but of his church few fragments remain. It was renowned as one of the finest examples of what would now be called the early Norman style, but has long given place to the more elaborate and graceful work of the thirteenth and sub- sequent centuries. The defaced shrine of the Confessor abides in the centre of his transformed church, per- petuating his memory to yet more changed descendants of his English people. If from amongst the many interesting constitutional records of this reign any incident of ecclesiastical bear- ing may be selected, all that belongs to the accession of Stigand to the see of Canterbury must rank as of leading importance. But this may most suitably be deferred until his personal history can be closed in the days of the Conquest. Those who read the actual records of those days, as they liave been opened to us by faithful investigators, cannot fail to be struck by the singular independence and national life of the English Church, even when such ORIGIN OF THE SEE OF EXETER. 121 an unpatriotic and superstitious sovereign as the Con- fessor was on the throne. In days when the western bishopric has been so recently reconstituted, it may be an apt iUustration of tlie rehition of the King to the Church, and of the absence of the universal Papal dictation of later days, to note how an ancient see 2:)assed away, and a familiar episcopal title came into existence. The Saxon bishops were not so closely identified with their cathedral as their successors have been. Some indeed, as those of York, London, and Eochester, are commonly spoken of as bishops of those cities. But there was an uncertain and fluctuating style used with regard to many of the others. They were frequently styled rather bishops of the tribe than of the city. Even the Primate himself was called sometimes ' bishop of the Kentish men.' Thus the chronicles and charters use the styles, bishop of the East Angles, or of the South Saxons.^ The bishop of Lichfield is often bishop of the Mercians, and so with other Saxon prelates. The west of England had been divided into two sees. There was a bishop of Cornwall since its conquest by Athelstane about 930, and a bishop of Devonshire. Bodmin and Crediton had been their episcopal seats. These were united in the days of the Confessor, and when Leofric was appointed to them in 1046 he re- moved his see to the fortified city on the Exe, which had already distinguished itself for valiant resistance to the Danish maritime freebooters. From that day to our own times the bishops of Exeter liave exercised sway from the Exe to the Land's End. The change of title was effected by royal authority, possibly carrying out some decree of the Witan, but certainly supported ^ Freeman, ii. 500. 122 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. by request from the jDope. A letter from Pope Leo IX. ^ to Edward speaks of Leofric as being a bishop without a cathedral city, expresses surprise that he and other bishops should be in such a position, and requests Edward for God's sake and for the love of the pope to transfer the episcopal see ft'om the ' little town of Crediton to the city of Exeter.* The same record proceeds to say that the king accordingly ' granted to Leofric the monastery of St. Mary and St. Peter in the city of Exeter, where he might place his episcopal throne.' A charter'-^ of Edward which has been doubted, but which now seems to be admitted as genuine, further records the proceeding a few months later. It formally constitutes Exeter as an episcopal see, and assigns to it the diocese of Cornwall with all its appurtenances, as well as the diocese of Devon with all which belonged to it, that they should con- stitute ' one bishopric under one bishop.' It assigns as a reason for this the scanty population and the devas- tation of the country by piratical invaders. ' Where- fore it seemed that the bishop's seat would have more security within the fortifications of Exeter.' ' There- fore,' the charter proceeds, ' this privilege I, Edward the King, place with mine own hand on the altar of St. Peter, I, leading Leofric the bishop by his right hand, and my queen Edith by his left, place him in the episcopal chair in the presence of my earls, cousins, nobles and chaplains, the archbishops affirming and approving the deed.' The names of Godwin, Harold, and Stigand, then Bishop of Winchester, appear among the witnesses to the charter. By a similar union the men of Dorset and Wiltshire in this reign lost their separate bishoprics, which had 1 Haddan and Stubbs, iii. 692. ^ Ibid., iii. 694. ORIGIN OF THE SEE OF SALISBURY. 123 been placed at Sherborne and Eamsbury. Hermann was a foreif^ner who stood hio^h in tlie favour of ' the Lady Edith,' Edward's queen. His bishopric of Ptams- bury was poor, and through her influence, it seems, the see of Sherborne was united to it. After the Conquest he deserted Sherborne and planted his see in the hill fortress of Old Sarum, looking down on the meadows by the southern Avon, where a successor two centuries later reared the one symmetrical cathedral of Salisbury. How Edward ' the Simple ' became recognised as a saint need not here be told. It is sufficient to say that the Saxon looked back to his days as the time when he enjoyed his English laws and liberties under the mighty protection of Godwin and Harold. So he learned to call them the laws of the good King Edward, as though the slothful monarch had been their author. The Norman on his part could respect the memory of one who in all his tastes and partialities was one of them- selves, and whose heir William claimed to be. The monks recognised a munificent patron ; and legendary lives of Edward abounding in miracles speedily dis- seminated his saintly fame. Thenceforward the sloth- ful, weak-minded, and superstitious but unpatriotic king was handed down as Saint Edward, Confessor, and many generations bowed down at his shrine as at a place where God would more certainly hear. He was formally canonised in 1161 through the influence of Henry H. who held him in great veneration. His grave was then opened, ^ and it is said that his body, with its long white curhng beard, was seen in full pre- servation. To the mind of modern times the great church which the sainted king had reared would have seemed his best and stateliest monument. Not so ^ Stanley, Memorials of Westminster Abbey, p. 120. 124 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. thought the middle ages. Henry III. determined to do him higher honour. He destroyed the massive Norman arcades of Edward, and reared on their foundations the stately pile on which so many genera- tions of Englishmen have looked, scarcely knowing whether more to admire or to venerate. In the very centre of this new building, where the high altar might have been supposed to stand, on a raised platform Henry prepared the Confessor's shrine, rich with gilding and mosaics. There he was laid by the hands of princes, one of them afterwards the greatest of English monarchs, Edward I. In the shock of the Eeformation the shrine was defaced as we see it now, and the venerated remains were removed into a meaner grave. But in the momentary revival of the abbey in Mary's time they were restored to their place in the shrine, where they have since been allowed to rest in peace. When the last crowned son of Cerdic was laid in the church which had been the object of his devotion, none knew what a catastrophe was near at hand. But before passing on to the Norman times it will be desirable to notice more at length some of the relations of the clergy among themselves and towards the laity. This enquiry will partly suggest contrasts to the Norman times which followed, and partly will exhibit ancient precedents of English Hberty which long after- wards served in some degree as a basis for the Eeformation. The social position and rights of the clergy ^ in the Saxon nations may first invite attention. In the earliest stage of missionary operations the clergy are naturally more or less grouped together in the principal stations. Afterwards they itinerate from thence, and as the ^ Kemble, Sa.vons in England ; Sharon Turner ; Palgrave. EARLY CHURCH ORGANISATION. 125 churches mcrease are gradually planted in the most promising or necessitous places. This inevitable course may be seen in the early Saxon Church, and may already have been marked by the reader. As Chris- tianity was introduced in the various Saxon kingdoms by royal authority, we find those first centres chiefly in the neighbourhood of tlie principal kingly residence. Canterbury, Eochester, London, York, and other mis- sionary centres will occur to the mind as at once the seat of sovereignty, the see of a bishop, and the source of Christianity. The itinerating work of Aidan, Chad, and other ancient worthies marks the next stage in the development of the Church. Of Chad it is said by Bede ^ that he ' visited towns, country, cottages, vil- lages, castles, on evangelising tours, not on horseback, but, like the apostles, travelling on foot.' Speaking of Cuthbert '^ he adds, ' At that time it was usual among the English tribes that, when a clergyman or presbyter arrived in a village, all men came together at his sum- mons to hear the Word.' Evidently Bede impHes that in his own day it was not so. He speaks of Cuthbert 's days, which were the days of his own childhood, as an itinerating period which had ceased in the Church. A more settled state had, therefore, been estabhshed within Bede's own lifetime. The difficulty and danger of travelling, and the necessity of continual teaching and watchfulness for recent converts from heathenism, would require tlie centres of instruction to be multiplied as soon as pos- sible. Hence the establishment of presbyters in dif- ferent parts of the country was promoted from very early times, sometimes by the king, or the bishop, and sometimes by landowners. Archbishop Theodore prob- 1 Bede, Hi. 21. ^ ibij., iy. 27. 126 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. ably did not introduce the usage, to which he had been long accustomed in the more settled countries, but he certainly stimulated and organised the movement. Elmham says of him that ' he excited the zeal of the faithful to build churches in towns and villages, to mark out parishes. He obtained the assent of the kings that if any were able to found churches at their own proper cost they should enjoy the perpetual patronage.' So general had they already become that the regulations of Theodore provide against simoniacal presentation to such benefices. By the time of Egbert, Archbishop of York in the next generation, he deemed it necessary to stipulate for a sufficient endowment in land, instead of casual offerings or tithes, which were then strictly voluntary. But the very rapid organisation of parishes, and endowment of parish churches, has been thought to point to a more generally available source than that of private munificence.^ Blackstone's theory is that the parish boundary coincided with that of the ancient manor or manors. He would thus identify each parish with some lordship of early times. But it does not appear that the manors described in the Domesday Survey coincide, except occasionally, with the parishes. Hence another theory has to be discovered. Mr. Kemble identifies the Enghsh parisli in general with the original communal divisions of the early Saxons, which are called Marks. These possessed complete social organ- isations and defined territorial limits. It is also believed that in heathen times they had their places of worship and local priests with land for their support. The suggestion is that on the adoption of Christianity these were transferred to the service of the Church. ^ Pearson, Hisioricul Mops of Englayid, p. 51. ORIGIN OF PARISHES. 127 Hence by a natural and rapid process the parochial boundaries and the • Church endowment would be at once constituted. If we understand that in addition to these not a few churclies were founded by private liberality, and if we allow for various changes and modifications, we shall find the principal facts of early organisation fairly accounted for. When we consider the marvellous permanence of Saxon boundaries, when we see the ancient shires fol- lowing, for the most part, the lines traced more than a thousand years ago, and the old limits of dioceses defining for us the extent of the early Saxon kingdoms, we may well believe that the parishes also were con- formed from the first to the divisions recognised in the lands of the Saxon tribes.^ How far these also were based on yet earlier British or Eoman limitations is an enquiry upon which we need not enter. Thus before the close of a century from Augustine's arrival in England we find episcopal and collegiate churches, as well as parish churches and monasteries, spread through- out England. The clergy enjoyed high consideration among the early English. Whatever learning or knowledge of the arts existed was almost limited to them. Injury to their life or property was rated more highly than for ordinary men. Their oath was of more force than that of other free men. Nevertheless they did not possess those immunities which in subsequent times excited so much obloquy, and which in no small degree disposed men's minds to accept the Reformation. They might indeed be free from personal service, as they still are. The serf ceased his obligation to his master when he received ordination. But Cliurch lands were liable * See also Stiibbs, Constitut. Hist., i. 227. 128 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. like all other to the dues for military service, repair of roads, and other public duties. Nor was tliere any exemption of the clergy from the civil law. The clerical immunity for which Becket died, and which Henry VIII. with so mucli difficulty destroyed, was unknown to the Saxon Church. The crime of the priest was judged by the State as the crimes of other men. ' If a priest kill another man,' says Alfred, ' let all that he had acquired at home be given up, and let the bishop deprive him of his orders ; then let him be given up from the minster, unless the lord will com- pound for the wergeld,'— that is the price at which in Saxon times each man's life was valued. But the Saxon priest was not separated from the common interests and lot of liis countrymen by com- pulsory cehbacy. There are abundant proofs that mar- riage was contracted among them. The feeling of the age ran strongly in favour of the celibate life. Bishops and councils endeavoured to enforce it ; the troubles in the age of Dunstan were due to that eifort, and the married clergy were in many ways held at disadvan- tage. Still they are to be found more or less through Saxon times. In days subsequent to the Conquest synod after synod passed laws against the marriage of the clergy and branded it as concubinage. But this only shows the persistency of the practice. ' The mar- riage of bishops, as Avell as of priests and deacons, was the ordinary rule in Wales down to the twelfth century at least. Three, if not four, married bishops sat at Llan- daff, one after the other, in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, a father and son amono; them. Sons of bishops and priests are continually mentioned, and without a liint of any feeling against them, until almost the day of Giraldus himself.' ^ ^ Haddans lieuiains, 201>. PAYMENT OF TITHE. 129 The payment of tithe was gradually established. It is referred to by Archbishops Theodore and Egbert, and appears to have been gradually changed from a voluntary payment into a customary one, and finally to have received legal confirmation. A grant of Ethel- wolf in 855 has often been named as the legal origin of tithe. But the careful examination of his donation by Mr. Kemble proves that it extended only to the kino-'s own estates and rights, and did not convey the tithe of the kingdom. Athelstane and subsequent kings, how- ever, fully recognised the right to tithe, and made regu- lations for its collection or distribution,^ some of which are minute and interesting. Turning to the Saxon bishops, we shall find tliat we have to consider a twofold question — their relation to tlie Eoman See, and to their fellow-countrymen. The first of these is encompassed with many difiiculties. Acts of subservience on the one hand, or of indepen- dence on the other, unduly emphasised, might lead to a Eoman or a Protestant theory almost equally untrue. An intermediate position will he nearer to the facts. The origin of the Saxon Church organisation, as also of the German, might seem to have prepared the way for greater submission to Eome than as yet prevailed in the Galilean Church. There ancient Churches, such as that of Vienne, claimed equal antiquity witli that of Eome itself, and had not forgotten their original inde- pendence. The Saxon and German Churches had no such ancient traditions, and knew of nothing so great or venerable as the Eoman See. Still we have seen ^ in the course of the history that a papal mandate was in very early times rejected when it seemed to run counter » Stubbs, Constitut. Hist., I 228 ; Iladdan and Stubbs, iii. 636. 2 Pp. 74, 70. K. 130 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. to tlie clierislied national independence. It lias also been shown ^ how the principles of English freedom made a wide severance between English and continental ecclesiastical usage. But the act of conferring a pall upon the Enghsh archbishops —the papal sanction of an archbishopric at Lichfield — the revocation of that grant in the presence of the legates at Cloveshoo — the appeals to Eome on several occasions, all show a considerable deference to the great Eoman See. In this, as in doctrine and other matters, the Englisli Church partook of the general Eomeward movement of the age. Nevertheless, the Saxon was distinctly a National Church, with its individual life and independence. Its bishops were often of royal blood, and were from the first closely associated with the civil power. Through the whole duration of the Anglo-Saxon monarchy they were appointed by the kings, either with or without the advice of their Great Council, or sometimes by the act of the Council itself. Thus we are told that Dunstan ^ was appointed Archbishop of Canterbury ' sapientum consiho.' The bishop having been nominated, the me- tropohtan received a royal mandate for his consecra- tion, and the king granted the temporalities of the see. Thus Archbishop Wulfstan certifies to Canute : ' Wulf- stan the archbishop greets King Canute his lord, and Elgive the lady, humbly : and I notify to you both, dear ones, that we have done as notice came from you to us respecting Bishop Ethelwold, namely, that we have con- secrated him.' The mode of appointing bishops has been the sub- ject of so much fatal strife in subsequent history, and of so much debate even in our times, that it may be 1 P. 69. 2 Florence of Worcester, ann. 959. APPOINTMENT OF BISHOPS. 131 desirable to present a little more definite information on the practice in this respect just before the Norman Con- quest. Mr. Freeman says : ^ ' It is clear that the aj)- pointment rested both practically and legally with the King and his Witan. Still we hear ever and anon of capitular elections, and in one case at least we even see some traces of that primitive but almost forgotten prac- tice by wdiich the clergy and the people at large of the vacant diocese claimed a voice in filling the episcopal chair.' Quotations from the chronicles and from char- ters of Edward the Confessor are alleged,^ illustrating all these cases. The phraseology of these documents commonly runs to the effect that the king gives such a bishoj)ric to the person named. At the same time it is allowed that the Eoman Court in the time of the Confessor was claiming a veto on the king's nomination. If to this be added the interference of the Witan with some matters with which were Parhament now to intermeddle some modern ecclesiastical predilections would be not a little startled, the national life of the early English will receive further illustration. The Great Council or Witan ^ ' had power to regulate eccle- siastical matters, to appoint fasts and festivals, and decide on the levy and expenditure of ecclesiastical revenue.' Tlieir interference with Inaiiy of these mat- ters was very minute, as may be seen by an inspection of the Saxon codes. One of the very earliest of these, tlie laws or ' dooms ' of King Lie or Ina, enforces the Sunday holiday, the early baptism of infants, and various other religious obligations. The union of tlie civil and ecclesiastical elements appears in the double punishment * Norman Cottquest, ii. 571. ^ See Freeman as above. 3 Kemble. K 2 132 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. decreed against one who buys and ships into a foreign land one of Enghsh race. He should not only pay the appointed fine, but also ' make deep satisfaction to God.' It may be readily understood that in subsequent ages, and especially in the struggles of the Keformation, these precedents were eagerly canvassed ; and that Henry Vni. had much foundation for his strong assertion that he took his stand on the ancient prerogatives of the English crown. These considerations lead us to what was the great distinction, and the root of almost all other distinctions, between the English Church in Saxon and in Norman times. We shall see that the Conqueror separated the church courts from the civil. No such separation was known in Saxon days. The bishop was necessarily the assessor of the civil magistrate, and assisted in the admi- nistration of justice. Thus the civil and ecclesiastical powers by their mutual relations supported each other, and ensured the national freedom in Church and State. It needed another system and another law to frame the Eoman Church as it has been known in subsequent ages. That system and that law we shall have to trace in the subsequent Norman times. It was not only the State, it was also the Church of England, which lay prostrate on the fatal field of Hastings. And when, after the lapse of a century or more, the Saxon recovered his tongue and renewed his aspirations for freedom, he yearned not only for the protection of his old Saxon laws, but also for the protection of Saxon custom against the tyranny of what was rapidly becoming a foreign Church. But it cost many a precious hfe and the lapse of five centuries before he cast off the yoke. If, in conclusion, we touch shghtly on the doctrines generally taught in the Saxon Church, the most intelli- DOCTRINES OF THE SAXON CHURCH. 133 gible and sufficiently accurate account to give would be the following. The English were not separated in faith or practice from the Continental Churches. On the various subjects with regard to which the Church of England has been at issue with the Church of Eome since the Eeformation, the teaching of the Western Church generally in that age agreed precisely with neither of those two great antagonists. There was prayer for the dead ; belief in purgatory ; superstitious reverence for pictures, images, and rehcs ; there was undue regard for celibacy ; there were confession and penance ; there were various corruptions prevalent both in doctrine and practice. But all these were yet more or less removed from the full Eoman type as it has since been exhibited to the world. To set forth the precise shades of doc- trine held in different ages on these and other topics requires an exact analysis beyond our limits and pur- pose. For this the reader must be referred to the scientific analysis of such works as deal professedly with history of doctrine. But on two points we may note the clear divergence of our Saxon forefathers from sub- sequent Eoman corruption. They might have little abihty, and less opportunity, to become acquainted with the Scriptures ; but they had no idea of the monstrous dogma that Holy Scripture was to be locked up fi^om the ordinary reader. The Saxon scholars, including Bede and Alfred, did their part in rendering the books of Holy Writ into their native dialects. Even now there is no complete or adequate account of the great variety of such translations still scattered in the various libraries ; but enough remains to show the amount of pious labour which found this direction for its energy. The second point on which we ought to note the comparative purity of the Saxon Church is the doctrine 134 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. of tlie Eucharist. It is true tliat there, as in other parts of the Church, perilous language had been used for centui'ies. Vague expressions were but too often a sign of vagueness of doctrine and perception. The bread in the Lord's Supper was called ' the body,' and the wine was called ' the blood,' as in some sort no Christian can hesitate to do who reads the words in which the Saviour instituted the sacred rite. These expressions were pressed in many quarters in a most misleading manner ; and language was often heard which might seem to imply a very absolute and literal corporal presence, such as our own Church repudiates in the note appended to the Communion Service, And, undoubtedly, here and there transubstantiation itself was beginning to be heard of. Still when the leading Church teachers were pressed on the subject, and the question could be fairly raised — ' Setting aside typical, symbolical, sacramental presence, what do you believe the elements in the Lord's Supper to be ? ' the answer was still for the most part that which had been in like manner given by the earlier divines : ' The elements are still simply and truly bread and wine. They can no more be transubstantiated into the sub- stance of the Lord's body, than his human nature can be converted into the divine essence.' It was about the age of Alfred that the controversy on this subject had first been distinctly raised in the German Church. Pas- chasius Eadbertus,^ about 831, unreservedly propounded the doctrine of transubstantiation in the absolute sense, confirming it by stories of persons to whom had been vouchsafed the vision of the sacred body perceptible in the elements. This raised considerable opposition : Eatramnus, and John Scotus or Erigena, wrote vigor- ously in opposition ; but the tide of superstition and » Neander, vi. 300. ELFRIC ON THE EUCHARIST. 135 mysticism was flowing powerfully in. When we meet with this question again two centuries later, after the Conquest, we shall find a very different issue, and a very different fate for the opponent. On this question the homilies of Elfric, archbishop of Canterbury at the close of the tenth century, have often been quoted. After the Keformation it seemed so important to Arch- bishop Parker to show that the Eeformed Enghsh Church stood on ancient foundations, and was pro- pounding no new doctrines, that Elfric's homilies were translated and published. The following extract may set forth Elfric's doctrine on this subject : ' If we behold the holy housel in a bodily sense, then we see that it is a corrupt and changeable creature ; but if we distin- guish the ghostly might therein, then understand we that there is life in it, and that it gives immortality to those who partake of it with belief. Great is the difference between the invisible might of the holy housel and the visible appearance of its own nature. By nature it is corruptible bread and corruptible wine, and is by power of the divine word truly Christ's body and His blood ; not however bodily, but spiritually. Great is the difference between the body in which Christ suffered, and the body which is hallowed for housel. The body verily in which Christ suffered was born of Mary's flesh, with blood and with bones, with skin and with sinews, with human limbs quickened by a rational soul ; and his ghostly body, whicli we call housel, is gathered of many corns, without blood and bone, limb- less and soulless, and there is, therefore, nothing therein to be understood bodily, but all is to be understood spiritually. Whatsoever there is in tlie housel which gives us the substance of life, that is from its ghostly power and invisible eflicacy ; therefore is the holy housel 136 HISTOPwY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. called a myster}^ because one thing is seen therein, and another thing is understood.' Wliatever else may be obscure in Archbishop Elfric's homily, it is clear that he repudiates transubstantiation. But the Conquest with all its changes was at hand, and it will be some ages before we hear the same note sounded by an archbishop of the English Church, and lie died for it. 137 CHAPTEE YI. THE CONQUEST. King of England. William flu- Conqueror, 106G-1087. It will be impossible to understand the foreign bondage which after the Conquest gradually riveted its chains round the Church of Ensfland, or the vain stru(?(j^les in which the kings and people from time to time fiercely resented the pressure, unless we take a preliminary survey of what were then recent developments of the Paj^al authority. For the first three centuries no general assembly of the Church was held, or was possible under the some- times cruel and always stern repressive force of the empire. There was, indeed, much correspondence between the bishops of different Churches, and great anxiety for mutual advice and agreement. But the fundamental idea of the third century was the essential equality of all bishops as inheriting a parity of juris- diction and authority. Still, some of the greater Churches, and Eome in particular as the capital of the Empire, received, and began to claim, a certain amount of deference. When after tlie conversion of Constantine general councils became possible, and were from time to time summoned by the emperors, the question of precedence 138 HISTORY OF THE CHUrtCH OF ENGLAND. which is inevitable in human assembhes arose. The first place was naturally assigned to the bishop of the Imperial City, and next to him were ranged some other metropolitans of the greater sees under the name of patriarchs. Thus rank rather than jmwe?- was the first step towards the Papacy. But the centrahsing system of the Eoman Empire, together with the legislation of the general councils, which was practically in the hands of the emperor and the leading bishops, tended thence- forward to throw more and more power into the hands of the patriarchs and metropohtans, and to subordinate to them the provincial bishops. To this must be added the baneful system which from the age of Constantine downwards was introduced into Eoman law. Eccle- siastical offences were no longer visited with Church censures only, but were vindicated and enforced by the civil power, and by punishment reaching the property or even the hfe. The Church had suffered in previous ages from the antagonism of Eoman despotic power ; it was now to receive the deeper injury of internal corruption from the moment when it stooped to avail itself of that des- potism against the outward enemy or the internal schismatic. The first temptation of this kind under which it fell was caused by the turbulent and imprac- ticable sect of the Donatists in Northern Africa. It is true that the Donatists by riot and tumult brought the civil hand inevitably upon themselves. But, unhappily, in the course of these proceedings no less a Church teacher than the great Augustine was led into assertions which may almost justify the proceedings of the Inqui- sition itself. He had often given utterance to sentiments of the most sublime Christian toleration. But with that inconsistency which more or less marks all the writers EATILY PERSECUTING LAWS. 139 of those times, he was drawn by the heat of controversy to write thus : ^ — ' Why should not the Church use force in compel- ling her lost sons to return, if those lost sons were com- pelhng others to their destruction ? Is it not a part of the care of the shepherd, when any sheep have left the flock, to bring them back to the fold of his master when he has found them, by the fear or even the pain of the whip if they show symptoms of resistance ? What else is the meaning of " Compel them to come in " ? Where- fore, if the power which the Church has received by divine appointment in due season, through the reli- gious character and faith of kings, be the instrument by which those who are found in the highway and hedges, that is in heresies and schisms, are compelled to come in, let them not find fault with the compulsion.' Although an opposite conclusion might be quoted from this illustrious man, and although, amongst others, Chrysostom could write about the same time : ^ ' It is contrary to Christian principle to subdue error by violence, but by persuasion, by reason, by gentleness, must we labour for men's salvation,' yet it is enough that such an exposition of the words ' Compel them to come in ' had been heard from the teacher who more than any other was to mould the opinions of the coming centuries. The code of Theodosius at the end of the fourth century contains the edicts of the several emperors of that aj?e on matters of reliction. The sixteenth book ^ contains a long section on the treatment of heretics, and others on apostates, on Jews, and on Pagans, their sacrifices and temples. The edicts thus brought together ^ Aug. De Correct. D(matist., 23. * Chrysost. De S. Bahyla. * See Codex Theodosian., ed. Leipsic, 1741, lib. xvi. tit. 5, 7, 8, 10. HO HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. vary from tolerance to extreme intolerance, as might be supposed from the character of the emperors. But the general drift and ultimate result of the whole is a system of extreme coercion. For example, by a rescript ^ of Theodosius and Yalentinian there is a heavy fine im- j^osed on heretical clergy. Arians, Macedonians, and ApoUinarians may not have a church within any city. Eunomians, Valentinians, and many others may not be permitted to meet or pray on Eoman soil ; they are incapable of service in the army ; they are not permitted any right of disposing of property by gift or by testament. Penalties of outlawry and of exile en- force these severities. In like manner apostates were dealt with under other imperial laws. Heathenism ^ was gradually suppressed under in- creasing penalties, until by several edicts it was made a capital offence. This will be sufficient to show how far back the principles and practice of religious persecution must be dated. From the moment when the Eoman emperors adopted Christianity — for it would hardly be true to say they became Christians — from that moment Eoman imperiahsm introduced its baneful tyranny into the realm of conscience, and gradually made bishops the agents of its arbitrary laws. These edicts spread per- secution as a principle of jurisprudence over Europe. The empire fell, but its laws remained.^ To this armoury pope and jurist and canonist came, and drew forth their desolating weapons of j^ersecuting statutes. They may have sharpened the imperial sword, which was left rusted and blunted when the empire sullenly ^ Codex Theod., xvi. tit. v. 65. 2 Codex Theodos., xvi. tit. x. A, 13, 20, 2o, &c. ^ See page 186. FOUNDATION OF THE PAPACY. 141 withdrew, but when they took it up it was after all nothing but the old Pagan sword, cross-hilted now, with which they smote what they were pleased to call heresy. The Saxons knew nothing of Eoman law ; they brought with them into Britain tlieir own customs and free usages ; yet even these were more affected in the course of time by Eoman law than is sometimes imagined. But in Gaul and in Italy the codes of Theodosius and Justinian remained dominant for cen- turies, at least in the great cities which retained to a great extent the systematic laws of the empire. From what has been so far said it will appear that by the middle of the eighth century when the Eoman bishop finally broke off from the Empire of Constantinople and transferred his allegiance, or such portion of it as he saw it necessary to retain, to Charlemagne and the new fine of Western emperors, there had gradually accrued an indefinite patriarchal jurisdiction over Western Europe which touched the authority of the local bishops at many points, but was precisely formulated in very few. Such a power was capable of great development in favouring circumstances. The fundamental formula was exceedingly simple. ' Peter was the prince of the Apostles, and to him was confided by his Master the government of the whole Church. He was bishop of Eome, and transmitted to his successors in that see the same ecclesiastical princedom.' An uncritical age accepted without question each step of this proposition. If historical proof was wanting, legend and apocryphal writings abundantly supplied the vacuum. It is not necessary to suppose any organised plot for developing this monstrous dogma into modern Papacy. It is quite sufficient that from age to age circumstances have thrown into the way of ambitious pontiffs oppor- 142 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. tunities of enlarging their power, and of building on that foundation ever-increasing claims. About the age of Charlemagne and of Egbert of England one of these opportunities occurred which has led to the most fruitful consequences. Two notorious forgeries then imposed on the world. The first/ some- where about 760, purported to be a grant from Con- stantine bestowing high privileges on the Eoman See. It was to have supreme authority over the four other patriarchal chairs of Alexandria, Antioch, Jerusalem, and Constantinople, and all other churches. It was to be judge in all causes pertaining to the worship of God and the Christian faith. There was a grant to the Pope of the use of imperial robes and insignia. The Eoman clergy were to rank as nobles, and to use the emblems of high rank. The sovereignty of Eome, Italy, or the western regions w^as added. The or was after- wards changed into and^ and construed to mean the islands, on which ground Hadrian lY. granted Ireland to Henry II. The ludicrous inconsistency which is appa- rent between this marvellous document and all the records of preceding history mattered little to an age of ignorance. And indeed, if the authentic hfe of Con- stantine allowed no place for such a fable, it cost but little effort to construct a legendary life wdiich might admit the donation and whatever else might be needful. The second great forgery w^as somewhat later, and belongs to the middle of the ninth century. It is the strange collection put forth under the name of Isidore, and generally known as the Pseudo-Isidorian Decretals. It purported to contain letters and decrees of bishops of Eome, beginning with the earliest centuries, and claim- ing supreme jurisdiction for the Eoman See as given to ^ DoUinger, Fables respcdhn/ Foj^es of the Middle Ages, v. THE FALSE DECRETALS. 143 it by tlie Lord Himself. It is unnecessary to enlarge here on tliese documents. Eoman divines are now as anxious to shake off their discredit as English writers are to point out what a treacherous foundation they are for the structure of Papal power. It suffices that these forgeries were admitted with scarcely a question. It will be seen that the earlier uncertain but great patri- archal claims of the Eoman See were at once trans- formed. They were now represented as a universal jurisdiction handed down by an unbroken chain of suc- cession from the first century, and further resting on a grant of the great Constantine. Still, for two more centuries the consequences of this change were not pushed home. The bishops of Eome were then verging towards their lowest point of degeneracy, when evil women held power, and when times were such that the revolting story of the female Pope Joan,^ however baseless (as Dollinger appears to have proved), was deemed not incredible in the following centuries. From this abyss of degradation the Papacy was lifted in the middle of the eleventh century, chiefly througli Hilde- brand, the great contemporary of the Conqueror. Be- sides his other achievements, under his auspices the false decretals, with further additions, were drafted into a complete code of Papal law, which was set forth as the legal standard for the ultimate court of appeal of Christendom. A few words may possibly indicate the insidious advance made by tlie Hildebrand canonists. The false decretals liad aimed clhefly at lowering tlie power of metropolitans ^ by making every bishop amenable only ^ Dollinger, Fables respecting Popes of the Middle Ages, i. ^ Hallam, Middle Ages, chap. vii. ; The Pope and the Council, by Janus, cliap. iii. 7. 144 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. to the immediate tribunal of tlie pope. All accused persons might not only appeal to the supreme pontiff from a sentence, but even during the progress of a cause before an inferior tribunal. New sees were not to be constituted nor removals of bishops allowed without the pope's sanction. But by the spurious additions of the Hildebrand canonists it was decreed that no bishop should exercise his functions until he had received the confirmation of the pope. This provision at once laid every national Church prostrate under the feet of the pope. As this principle received further development the Eoman Episcopacy has gradually lapsed still more, even in modern times, into the mere creature of the pope's will. But to place the papal power in a position of full independence it was necessary to change the mode in which bishops of Eome had been hitherto apjDointed. This revolution also was effected at this remarkable epoch. It may be possible to give a sufficiently accu- rate sketch of this great transfer of power without entering into details which would carry us too far into the history of other countries. The early bishops of Eome were undoubtedly elected by the people, and as cer- tainly in Christian times the confirmation of the choice by the emperor was always awaited. Even after the dis- solution of the Western Empire this was usual. Charle- magne considered that he inherited this to^^ether with the other imperial prerogatives when he was crowned em- peror of the West. After his decease, his successors, both of his own line and others which followed it, exer- cised this mark of sovereignty, excepting in times of dire confusion in Church and State. They even, in some in- stances, nominated the pope. In 1059 a papal decree varied the mode of election. The Eoman people were THE POPE ELECTED BY CARDINALS. 145 judged to have forfeited tlieir riglit. Tlie seven car- dinal bishops who held sees in the neighbourliood of Eome, and who had originally been suffragans to the unaggrandized Bishop of Eome/ were to elect the pope. The concurrence was to follow first of tlie cardinal priests and deacons (or ministers of the parish churches of Eome), and afterwards of the laity. Thus elected, the new pope was to be presented for confirmation to the emperor. This will sufficiently explain what the since famous body of cardinals originally was, and how they attained the power and rank which have since been so conspicuous in history. This revolution, decreed by Pope Nicholas II., is generally acknowledged to have been the work of Hildebrand. It needed little more to complete the change. The concurrence of the laity and the confirmation by the emperor were speedily cast aside as superfluities, and the entire independence of the Papacy was achieved. It was in this revolutionary period tliat tlie Con- queror stood triumphant on the field of Hastings. Though Hildebrand did not himself ascend the papal throne as Gregory YII. until 1073, nine years later, he had been for some years the greater power which stood behind the pope and directed the Eoman poHcy. The invasion of England by the Normans was one of the great papal opportunities. William was eao^er to strengthen his dubious claim to the desired throne by the sanction of the Church. The writers of that age vary in the details of the story, but it is clear from their concurrent testimony that Harold had been drawn by William into the engagement of a solemn oath, the purport of which was to secure the succession ^ Ilallam, Mid. Af/es, vii. L 146 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. of the English crown to the Norman duke. Harold's breach of this engagement, skilfully used at Eome, pro- cured the sanction of the Papal See to William's enter- prise. Hildebrand, at least, if no one else, would see ail that might be gained to papal authority by this measure. The pope in consistory pronounced in favour of William, urging him to avenge the perjury, but add- ing the ominous condition that ' England when con- quered should be held as the fief of St. Peter.' The pope further sent to William a consecrated banner, and a rinof enclosing a relic of St. Peter, be it a hair or be it a tooth, as the narratives vary. William himself was too powerful and sagacious a monarch to fear the con- sequences of a condition which he would regard as mere words to be played with, and which he never allowed to carry sway while he Hved. But the bearing of such a condition, coupled with the canon law now set forth based on the decretals and the donation of Constantine, will be manifest even to the least observant. It was thus that the short-sighted policy of sovereigns, looking only to the exigency or convenience of the moment, admitted principle after principle in favour of ecclesiastical power, which gradually made the weaker monarchs helpless, and sorely embarrassed the most vigorous for several ages. It was enough that Alexander II. and Gregory YII. should assert Constantine's dona- tion and the vassalage of England. It might for the moment seem almost inoperative, but after-ages would find that a terrible power was thus growing up in the Vatican. Thus ^ ' the first Crusade was preached, and preached by Eome against the liberties of England.' The thoroughly national aspect of the Saxon Church, and its close relations with the civil government, have * Freeman, Norman Conquest. ARCHBISHOPRIC OF STIGAND. 147 already been noticed. William felt that he could not be secure on his throne until the influence of the Church was assured to his side. Acting in this matter again in concert with Hildebrand, he admitted legates from Eome, by whose authority he procured the deposition of the leading Saxon prelates. The see of Canterbury was of prime importance. It was then occupied by Stigand, a man of inferior abilities, but a sturdy Saxon patriot, who had made an unwilling submission to the Conqueror. The accession of Stigand to the archbishopric pre- sents features of so much interest bearing on the ques- tions now before us, that we must glance back to the days of the Confessor. In accordance with his Norman partiahty, Edward had elevated to the see of Canter- bury Eobert, who had formerly been abbot of the famous Norman monastery of Jumieges. To him was due the introduction into England of alien priories, which were ultimately doomed to fall long before the Eeformation, a kind of first-fruits of the greater ruin which was to overtake all tlie monasteries. Normans were already in Edward's time acquiring estates in Eng- land, and granting manors to some favourite monastery at home. On these manors they planted a small mo- nastic house to shelter some members of the foreign establishment, wlio might manage tlie property and transmit the proceeds to the mother foundation. Such were the alien priories, always hateful to all good Eng- lishmen, who thus saw their own country impoverished to enrich foreign ecclesiastics. In the reaction against the Normans which was led by Godwin and his sons, a.d. 1052, Archbishop Eobert fled for his hfe. L 2 148 HISTORY OF THE CPIURCH OF ENGLAND. At the great meeting of tlie Witan ^ wliicli rallied round Godwin on his return from exile, sentence of banishment and outlawry was pronounced upon Arch- bishop Eobert ' and all the Frenchmen who had reared up bad law, and judged unjust judgments, and coun- selled evil counsel in this land.' To the primacy thus vacated Stigand was appointed by the action of the Witan. But this vigorous proof of insular independence was to bring evil fruit in after days. The secular power, without canonical pretext, had made vacant, and had filled, the highest ecclesiastical office. Eobert, the de- prived archbishop, carried his complaint to Eome in vain, and died at length in exile at Jumieges. But his Norman sovereign did not forget his subject's grievance, and it furnished the second charge in his declaration of war against Harold, that ' Godwin and his sons had banished Bishop Eobert and all Frenchmen from Eng- land.' Under these circumstances, Stigand was unable for six years to obtain the pall from the Eoman pontiff. Benedict X. then conferred it, but was himself unable to maintain his title to the Papacy. As Benedict was regarded as irregularly appointed, Stigand's case was made yet worse in canonical minds. Thus the position of this prelate was regarded by many as a dubious one. He was treated legally as archbishop, and as such exer- cised all the power and influence of that high position during the remainder of the Confessor's reign. But there was a hesitation about receiving consecration at his hands on the part of many bisho]3s of his province, and scruples were plainly expressed about the eccle- siastical validity of his acts. It could not be otherwise, considering that for centuries past the reception of the pall had been deemed essential to the entrance of an ^ Freeman, ii. 334. DEPOSITION OF SAXON PRELATES. 149 arclibishop into his full spiritual preeminence. Even Harold received coronation at the hands of the northern primate rather than of Stigand. To depose a Saxon pre- late whose antecedents were tlius anti-papal and Eng- lish would be equally acceptable to the pope and to the Conqueror. Accordingly, the pope's legates readily pronounced his deposition, and the great see of Canter- bury was placed at William's disposal. Stigand ended his few remaining days as a prisoner, or at least under close surveillance at Winchester. His memory fared ill at the hands of Norman chroniclers. They set before us ^ the picture of a sordid miser, round whose wretched neck was suspended the key of a writing casket. This being found and opened after his death disclosed the secret repositories of immense trea- sures. Such stories are usually grotesque exaggera- tions. Patriotic fancies suppose the old archbishop to have been storing up the means for some hoped-for day of Saxon revival. Whatever may be the truth, it might at least have been wished that the Saxon succession at Canterbury should have closed with more dignity. To- gether with Stigand, other bishops and several leading abbots were deprived, and soon the only remaining bishops of the Saxon race '^ w^ere Siward of Eochester, and Wulfstan of Worcester. Wulfstan had already in Edward's days acquired a saintly reputation. He survived the Conqueror, dying in 1095, after a prolonged life in which he commanded sufficient influence with both races to mitigate in some measure the harsh results of the Conquest. Some of his work yet remains in Worcester cathedral, but a more enduring fame belongs to him from his eflbrts to 1 Will. Malm., Gest Pont., i. 23. 2 Stubbs, Constit. Hist., i. 282. 150 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. abate the shameful traffic in slaves, which had received a stimulus from thfe savage warfare which had desolated England. Bristol ^ was a chief seat of this trade. Men and women of English birth were there bought and sold, subjected to infamy, and exported to Ireland. Law had failed to deal with this evil, but the preaching of Wulfstan is said to have been efficacious, at least for the time. The saintly reputation of Wulfstan flourished at Worcester. A century later he had an unworthy devotee. King John of England ^ trusted body and soul to him. ' To God and St, Wulfstan I commend my body and soul ' was his parting aspiration ; and the figure of St. Wulfstan still appears as a guardian beside that wretched king's sleeping effigy in Worcester cathedral. The most picturesque incident in the subsequent legendary history of this Saxon saint is that which de- scribes his supposed intended deposition by the Norman king and the Italian primate. In the new minster of Edward, says the curious legend,^ Wulfstan was called upon to surrender his episcopal staff and ring, as one unworthy to hold them, simple, unlearned, and ignorant of the French tongue. Not to prelate or king would Wulfstan surrender his charge. Advancing to the tomb of the Confessor, he said : ' Thou knoAvest, blessed king, how unwilling was I, and how thou didst lay this charge upon me. I was duly elected, but it was thy will that called me to this office. Now there is a new king, a new law, a new archbishop. They accuse thee of error in making me a bishop. Not to them, for they gave it not ; to thee, who gavest, do I resign this staff,' Then he struck the shrine with the staff, saying, ' Eeceive it, * Freeman, Nunn. Conq., c. xix, ^ Roger of Wendover, in ann. 1216. ' Weudover, in ann. 1095. LEGEND OF ST. WULFSTAN. 151 my lord the king — give it to whom thou wilt.' The solid stone was pierced and the staff remained immov- able. None could wrench it from the grasp of the sainted king ; no prelate, not the primate himself. Once more Wulfstan appealed to his dead master : ' Give me back my staff, or shoAV to whom it shall be given.' The solid stone at once ' yielded as if it were clay,' and all was mutual blessing and forgiveness. Such were the legends which in that age so speedily gathered round one of saintly repute, and such was the mode in which afterwards men explained the marvel that a Saxon prelate should have retained his see in England after the Conquest. But, with this excej)tion, the bishoprics and leading offices in the Church were speedily in the hands of Normans, who had been ap- pointed by the Confessor, or were now introduced by Wilham. Many a year elapsed before any man of Saxon origin could hope for high preferment m England. The appointment of Stigand's successor was a mat- ter of high pohtical concern. In selecting Lanfranc for this eminent position William introduced a man of higher mark, in point of culture as well as statesmanship, than, with the exception, perhaps, of Theodore, had ever sat on the throne of Canterbury. Lanfranc was a native of Pavia, where lie studied law and other branches of learning. In the schools of Italy there yet lingered a tincture of scholarship and a breadth of reading not elsewhere known in Europe. In the prime of hfe Lan- franc was induced to leave Italy and open a school at Avranches, in Normandy, to wliich multitudes of dis- ciples were speedily attracted. But in the midst of his career he withdrew, from some unexplained reason, to the monastery of Bee, at that time of smaU repute or dignity, where he practised the usual austerities. His 152 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. reputation followed liim, and the monastery speedily acquired importance. About the year 1053 the Duke of Normandy in- curred papal displeasure by marrying in a manner which violated in some unknown degree^ the restrictions en- forced by ecclesiastical law. Lanfranc took the side of the Church, and either for this or for some other reason, for accounts differ, was commanded by WiUiam to leave the duchy. The story of his dismissal and first meeting with the duke is characteristic, and ought to be presented as nearly as may be in the original lifehke narrative. ' The duke,'^ violently embittered against him, com- manded him to be thrust out of the monastery and ex- pelled the kingdom. So he departed who was the joy and consolation of the brethren, and deep grief remained behind him. Because they had no better, they gave him a three-footed horse, for the fourth was useless, and one servant. On his way he soon met the duke, whom he saluted, his lame horse meanwhile at each step bow- ing his head to the ground. The duke at first turned away, but moved by the Divine mercy regarded him, and with a friendly nod invited conversation. With a well-timed joke Lanfranc began : " By thy command I am leaving thy territory at a foot's pace, limited by this wretched steed ; but that I may obey thy commands give me a better horse." The duke laughed, and re- plied : " Who asks a gift from an offended judge, when the charge has not been answered ? " ' Lanfranc with ready eloquence seized the opportunity. The two men speedily understood each other. Lanfranc returned to his monastery, and the brethren ' sang with heart and voice all the day long, Te Deum Laudamus.' ^ See Freeman, Norm. Conq, ^ Vita Lanfranei, 9. NORMAN ARCHITECTURE. 153 Henceforth Lanfranc took a high place in WilUam's favour, and soon extricated the duke from his matri- monial difficulty. He afterwards became abbot of the new abbey of St. Stephen, at Caen, and in 1070 accepted, after long hesitation, the archbishopric of Canterbury. He was consecrated in the midst of desolation. The cathedraP had been ruined by fire, and everything in Church and State was in confusion. In whatever other arts the Saxons may have been superior to the Normans, it is certain that a new era in architecture was introduced by the Conquest. The Norman prelates were munificent builders. The remains of Saxon masonry are scanty and poor. But there can be no one of ordinary knowledge and observation who has not vividly present to his mind some one at least of the grand Norman naves of the cathedral and abbey churches. Gloucester, Tewkesbury, Peterborough, Ely, St. Alban's will at once occur as vivid embodiments of the power with which the Norman builders worked. These and more, to say nothing of the remains in parish churches, are due to the century which followed the Conquest. The work which ^ Lanfranc commenced at Canterbury has chiefly perished. His new cathedral experienced the fate of its predecessor, and was burned after the lapse of about another century. The pointed arches of the present stately cathedral tell of other builders and later times. Lanfranc brought with him Gundulf, one of his brethren from the abbey of Bee, who has left liis mark in England to this daj^ Besides the work which Gundulf superintended for Lanfranc in Canterbury, to him has been attributed the Castle of Eochester, and the White Tower or central ^ Vita Lanfranci, 25. ^ Eadmer, Hist. Nov, 154 HISTOllY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. fortress in the Tower of London. He died as Bishop of Eochester, where the cathedral nave still testifies to his enduring work.^ The independent line of policy which the Conqueror maintained towards the Papacy has already been indi- cated. He showed himself able to use that power for his own purposes, without submitting to its dominion. He was laying up a perilous set of precedents for his successors when they became weaker and the pope stronger ; but he had no fear for himself, and was ably seconded by Lanfranc. The archbisho23 was a man of liberal culture, from a part of Italy which was rather im- perial than papal in its tendency. It must also be remem- bered that his education had been formed before the system of Hildebrand had been matured ; and, though a friend of that great pontiff, he was not under his per- sonal influence. The conditions on which the papal sanction to the Conquest had been given were not forgotten in Eome. A legate was sent to demand an oath of fealty from William to the pope, and the regular payment of Peter's pence. William repHed with haughtiness,'^ ' To do homage to thee I liave not willed, and I do not will. I never made the promise. I do not find that homage was ever performed by my predecessors to thine.' The money, he said, should be transmitted. The legate ap- pealed to Lanfranc, who replied cocUy, but with much polite deference, that 'canonical obedience' he would ever render to the Apostohcal See, that he had done what he could for the legate, and that if the king had dechned to yield, it was no fault of his. ' To my lord the king I suggested, I advised, but I did not persuade ^^^Eadmer, Hist. Nov. « Baroiiius, ann. 1079, xxii. ; Ellis, Orig, Letters, iii. i. 8, 9. LIMITATIONS OF TAPAL POWER. 155 him.' Gregory attempted to put a yet stronger pressure on Lanfranc, threatening him with suspension and ex- communication if he should fail to present himself in Eome within four months from the date of his letter. Lanfranc, with William's support, was sufficiently strong to disobey, and the pope did not venture on carrying out his threat, indeed he was involved in political diffi- culties with the emperor quite sufficient to occupy him. The principles of ecclesiastical law laid down in this reign were quite in character with what has so far been said of the king and archbishop.^ The bishops were to be vassals of the Crown, owing service for their lands on the same footing as the temporal barons. The church synods might pass no laws which were not agreeable to the king. The clergy might not acknow- ledge anyone as pope without the king's assent. Papal letters and instruments might not be pubhshed without the royal sanction. No ecclesiastic might leave the kingdom without permission. So early were these principles asserted. The battle which was fought around them will assail us with its uproar through all the centuries until the Beformation. Even now faint echoes of it are heard from time to time, when some voice is raised against the mild dominance of the State over the Church of the nineteenth century. On one important matter the Saxon usage was entirely changed, and with disastrous consequences. The Saxon bishop, as we have seen,^ sat with the civil magis- trate, and there was rather a blending than a confusion of jurisdiction, Wilham separated the ecclesiastical from the civil court. lie might seem to himself to be limiting the episcopal power ; and while his vigour, sup- * Collier, Ecc. Hist. Records; Freeman, Norm. Coiiq., c. xix. ' Supra, p. 132. Blackstone, iii. 5. 156 HISTOEY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. ported by siicli a primate as Lanfranc, could dominate the ecclesiastical courts, no evil result might be appa- rent. But he had, in fact, erected in the midst of Eng- land a rival jurisdiction. When the restraints on the exercise of papal power broke down, as they speedily did, our forefathers found themselves delivered up in the dearest points of social existence to bishops who were papal officials, and who carried out a foreign canon law under the severest penalties, with the ruinous pros- pect of an appeal to Eome itself. This arose from the change introduced by William, and the Eeformation itself failed entirely to deliver England from the oppres- sive yoke of ecclesiastical law and ecclesiastical judges William's charter ^ by which the separation of the courts was effected runs to the following effect. That ' no bishop or archdeacon should any more hold pleas concerning episcopal laws in the court of the hundred, nor bring matters pertaining to spiritual causes before a secular tribunal. That all persons episcopally cited should appear at a place to be named by the bishop, and there answer, not according to the usages of the hun- dred, but in accordance with the canons. That if any one so cited should be contumacious, after a third sum- mons he should be excommunicated ; and if need be, the sheriff might then interpose to support with the secular arm the episcopal judgment. Finally, that all sheriffs and royal officers were prohibited from interfer- ing with episcopal jurisdiction.' Little did the sagacious, though imperious, monarch know what developments the canon laAV was even then receiving, and was yet to receive ; and how for centuries his successors would be struggling, and for the most ^ Spelman, Concil., ii. 14. MARRIAGE OF THE CLERGY. 157 part in vain, to set bounds to the separate episcopal ju- risdiction thus set up. In the frequent synods held by Lanfranc we recog- nise another change which stamped an exclusively ec- clesiastical character on these assemblages. The mixed nature of the old Saxon councils was now condemned. ' Know ^ all men,' said William's charter, ' that I have judged it right to amend the episcopal laws up to my time : it was ill done, and not in accordance with the holy canons that they were regulated.' Henceforward clergy and laymen met in separate councils. Lanfranc held a series of these synods in which he endeavoured to combat the worst corruptions of the clergy. If in these he reckoned their marriage, it is no more than we should expect. It was decreed that thenceforth no priest should marry, no married man be admitted to sacred orders, and no marriage be valid without the priestly benediction. Yet that all these attempts failed may be learned from repeated notices of the same thing in the S3mods of the next two centuries. In 1107 Pope Paschal wrote to Anselm dispensing with the regulation against the or- dination of priests' sons, ' because '^ the larger and better part of the clergy belonged to tliat class.' The same subject recurs in the synod of London 1237, in the constitutions of Archbishop Peckham in 1279, and even in the proceedings of later synods. For example, among the records of Arclibishop Chicheley,^ only a century before the Eeformation, there may be read a severe reprobation of married clergymen taking part in the proceedings of ecclesiastical courts. The removal of tlie seats of bishoprics to the more 1 Haddan and Stubbs, 82. ^ Collier, Records, xvii. » Wilkins, iii. 369. 158 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. considerable towns, wliicli was in progress about this time, has already received some notice. Perhaps in no respect has English life been more strongly marked off from the continental Hfe than by the different influence exercised by the great cities. In the Eoman imperial system, which was reflected in all the ecclesiastical ar- rangements of the empire, the city was every thing, the country nothing. The bishop in that system was bishop of the city where his seat was fixed, and from whence he ruled his diocese, which at first (it must be remem- bered) was a word of civil rather than ecclesiastical usage. Among Celts and Saxons it was not so. There is still a bishop of Meath and of Ossory, of districts rather than of towns. Even now, in England, whatever the magnitude and wealth of some towns, or the attrac- tions of others, the city does not rule the country. The country-life to the Englishman ranks as best and highest. In Saxon times this w^as pre-eminently so, and the bishop neither of necessity fixed his residence in the chief town of his diocese, nor took his title from it. It has, been already noted that he might have his see at Crediton, but be usually styled Bishop of Devonshire. The Conquest brought a change in this matter also. Eeferring ^ to a decree of ancient councils, that bishops' sees should not be fixed in the smaller towns, it was now ordered that certain sees should be removed. Several changes of this kind accordingly followed. Sherborne lost its episcopal rank dating from the earliest days of Saxon Christianity. The see was removed to the forti- fied hill of the now desolated Old Sarum. The I^orman cathedral which its narrow precinct would permit must have been small. Something more than a century later the bishop's seat was brought down into the plain, and 1 Will. Malm*., Gest. Font., i. 42. CHANGE OF BISHOPS' SEES. 159 the one symmetrical cathedral raised its stately form in the meadows of the Avon, at New Sarum, or Salisbury. The see of Lindisfarne had already been removed to Durham, and the westernmost bisliopric to Exeter. The little country town of Lichfield,^ ' far from cities, in the midst of woods, and by a flowing rivulet, cramped in position, and unworthy of episcopal rank,' was aban- doned for a seat within the Eoman walls of Chester. Why these changes were made centuries ago may, per- haps, be a matter of little interest to any but the anti- quarian. Yet if history is to be anything more than a lifeless register, there should be some endeavour to place ourselves by the side of our forefathers, and un- derstand what they thouglit. We have the almost contemporary record of tlie Malmesbury monk. He describes the Chester of that day as lying in a district poor in corn but abundant in cattle and fish. The inhabitants were fond of milk and butter, and the richer sort lived on flesh, and held wheat or barley bread as a thing of high value. Perhaps the next remark points out the importance of the place, which led to the re- moval of the Lichfield see to this remote corner. It was the emporium of the Irish trade. It also possessed a monastery which of old times liad been occupied by nuns. It would be an inaccurate picture of the times were we to pause at things of material interest, and omit the legend which in the eyes of that age sanctified the ground. St. Werburgh was a Saxon princess of the seventh century, who liad founded the nunnery, and of whose sanctity the chronicle, which tells of the removal of the see, with serious earnestness gives this grotesque illustration. She had a country farm whose produce was mucli ravaged by wild geese. The bailifl* com- 1 Will. Malm.'., Gcsl. Vont., iv. 172. 160 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. plained to the lady that he could not keep off these marauders. ' Go,' said she, ' and shut them all in the house.' The baihfF was astounded, and thought she must be jesting with him ; but as she gravely repeated her order, he went and called the birds. With out- stretched necks they obeyed, and were duly shut in. The temptation was too much for the bailiff, and he cooked one of them for supper. But saints are not thus to be deceived, even in the matter of uncounted wild geese. The lady discovered the theft, and com- manded the bones to be brought. Under her hand flesh, skin, and plumage reappeared ; and the whole flock, having first made obeisance, in unbroken number soared away. Therefore, at Chester was she in high honour, and, being prompt in her answers to petitions, she was much sought in the prayers of women and children. What is this but some fairy tale of antiquity dressed in a quasi-Christian garb ? If it be judged too puerile to repeat, the answer must be that true history must show people as they were. Whether the scantiness of corn was the cause or not, or whether St. Werburgh was after all but a poor saint, does not appear. Chester was deserted by the next bishop, and did not resume episcopal rank until Henry YIII. elevated it into a bishop's see, and assigned the monastic church of St. Werburgh for the cathedral. Probably, however (as men for the most part act on rational motives), Chester was found too distant, and most inconveniently placed, to be the seat of a bishopric extending into Warwickshire. Thus one bishop only in Norman times sat at Chester. His successor mi- grated to a stately home at Coventry. There, Leofric, Earl of Mcrcia. and his yet more famous spouse Godiva, BISHOPRIC OF COVENTRY. 161 had reared a sumptuous monastery in the days of the Confessor. ' So resplendent was it with silver and gold that the very walls of the churches seemed too strait- ened for such treasures.' These treasures, says WilHam of Malmesbury, the bishop coveted, and from these he sent the needful bribes both to the royal and the Roman courts. Thus the Mercian bishop for some generations fixed his see at Coventry. The cathedral of that city has perished, and the bishops returned before long to their ancient seat at Lichfield, but the episcopal title of ' Lichfield and Coventry ' brought down to this century the memory of those ancient vicissitudes. Recent changes have assigned the whole of Warwickshire to the see of Worcester. Probably the modern ribbon- weavers were not sensitive on the subject, for Coventry has lost its episcopal rank. Older times would perhaps have continued the style as ' Worcester and Coventry.' When the illusive right of electing the bishop was lodged in tlie hands of the diocesan chapter in the twelfth century, and the chapters strove hard to make it a reality, long disputes ensued between the monks of Coventry and the canons of Lichfield as to their several elective powers. More than once each presented a bishop to be confirmed in the see. Li 1228 the con- troversy ^ was heard before the pope, in the dark days when the pope, after John's submission, was supreme in England. The pope determined that the election should rest jointly with the two chapters, and that they should meet alternately at Coventry and at Lichfield on these occasions. Finally, when the great abbey of Coventry, with its cathedral, disappeared in the reign of Henry VIIL, it was decreed by Act of Parliament^ that the ^ Anr/Iia Sacra, i. 437. ^ Act 30rd Henry YIII. ; Ayu/Iia Sacra, i. 458. 162 HISTORY OF THE CHCJRCH OF ENGLAND. election of the bisliop by the Dean and Chapter of Lichfield alone should have the same validity as if the Chapter of Coventry had survived to act jointly with them. The other great Mercian see of the Oxfordshire Dorchester was subjected to a yet more extreme migration. From the banks of the Thames Remigius/ ' small in stature but great in heart, dark of complexion but bright in works,' removed to the northernmost limit of his diocese, and placed his new cathedral on Lincoln's ' sovereign hill.' We are told ^ that Dorchester was even then a poor village with a majestic church ; but that Lincoln was one of the most populous towns in England, an emporium of traffic by land and by sea. So Lincoln attained its ecclesiastical rank. Remigius died the day before the consecration of his new cathedral ; ' envious death took him away from so great a pleasure.' The East Anglian see had already suffered changes ; it was now removed from Elmham to Thetford, and shortly afterwards to its abiding place at Norwich, then a wealthy and populous city. The ancient and wealthy monastery of Ely was transformed into a bishopric in 1107. Finally, it may be noted here that William Rufus annexed Cumberland to the crown of England, and made it a county analogous to other portions of English soil. Its previous condition had been one of ambiguous de- pendency under lords of British, Scotch, or Saxon origin. Carhsle was restored and fortified, and in 1133 Henry I. made it the seat of a bishopric. To Lanfranc's days must be referred a revision of the Church service which thenceforward obtained very * R. Wendover, in ann. 1085. ^ William of Malmesbuvj. THE USE OF SARUM. 163 general use in England, and is referred to in tlie preface to our prayer-book as the ' Use of Sarum.' Osmund was one of William's warriors who was rewarded with the bishopric of Sherborne, now removed to Old Sarum, and more than a century afterwards finally settled at New Sarum or Sahsbury. Tlie arrangement of the details of divine service had belonged of old usage to the bishop in his own diocese. Osmund took great pains to collect clergy who were most versed in ritual and rubrical matters, and with their aid he arranged a service book which received the sanction of the arch- bishop. Hence arose the title which may yet be seen appended to the designation of the Bishop of Salisbury in that characteristically modern publication, ' the Clergy List,' — ' Provincial Precentor of Canterbury.' Whether any duties pertain to the office when the Synod of Canterbury meets, can be known to very few outside the inner ecclesiastical circle. In 1087 the Conqueror died* 'How much Lan- franc mourned, who can tell,' writes a monk of his cathedral,' ' since Ave who Were with liim feared he would die from anguish of heart. ^ Two years afterwards their archbishop followed liis master at an age of more than eighty years. When he was gone no sufficient in- fluence '^ remained to control the passionate fierceness of the new king. At once a turbulent era opens, which is, however, not a mere ecclesiastical anarcliy, but a time in which tlie contest of great principles in Church and State must be traced and recorded. But before passing on to these, some account must be given of the literary cliaracter of Lanfranc and tlie great controversy in which lie bore a part. It has already been indicated,^ that when the con- 1 Eadmer, Hist. Nov. ^ Ibid. » pa^^ 135 M 2 164 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. troversy on the nature of the presence of Christ in the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper again became prominent, the issue would be found different from that noted in tlie tenth century. The most famous scholar in France con- temporary with Lanfranc was Berengar. He was a man of liberal mind and great logical powers, who advocated the opinions of Eatramnus and Erigena in opposition to the transubstantiation views which had been making rapid progress since their days.^ The troubles in which he was involved in consequence of his boldness do not belong to the scope of this work. Gregory YII. would have allowed him to shelter himself under ambiguous declarations which might cover either a spiritual or corporal presence, but the fanaticism of the opposing party prevailed. Berengar was forced to recant, and the doctrine of transubstantiation made a great ad- vance , towards supremacy, though it was not formally declared a doctrine of the Church until 1215. In the early stages of this controversy Lanfranc took an active part. Berengar \vrote to him expressing his astonishment that he should have pronounced the opinions of Johannes Scotus heretical. If this were so, he said, ' you have pronounced a judgment rash and un- worthy of the powers God has given you. You have not as yet grounded yourself in Holy Scripture, or con- ferred much with those who have been more dihgent in Scriptural studies than yourself. If you reckon John a heretic, whose opinions on the Eucharist I maintain, you must be supposed to regard as heretics Ambrose, Jerome, Augustine, not to mention others.' The future archbishop and Berengar were thus thrown into opposi- tion. Lanfranc wrote vehemently against him in a * For an account of Berengar and the controversy generally see Neauder , Yi.313. DEATH OF LANFRANC. 165 work entitled ' On the Body and Blood of our Lord.' There are some other remains of his hterary labours, but they are not regarded as possessing intrinsic impor- tance. As far as this bears on the history of the Enghsh Church, it is obvious to notice that the contrast between the teaching of Archbishop Elfric at the close of the tenth century and Archbishop Lanfranc at the close of the eleventh is ominous of all that was to follow in sacramental doctrine. Lanfranc is said by the author of liis life ^ to have sedulously ' corrected according to the orthodox faith ' corrupt copies of the Scriptures and of the fathers. A lover of manuscripts might well tremble at the conse- quences of such probably arbitrary and uncritical cor- rection. But a more certain benefit was the provision of books made by Lanfranc for Canterbury, which must have suffered sorely in that respect in the fires and plunderings of the previous centuries. With the death of Lanfranc in 1089, the long con- cordant action of the Crown and Church of England passed away. New forces came into action ; the canon law was to be the wedge riving asunder the sturdy oak, and bringing untold disasters on multitudes who should have found undisturbed shelter under its branches. ^ See also R. Wendover, in ann, 1090. 166 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. CHAPTEE YII. THE GROWTH OF THE PAPAL POWER. Kings of England. William Rufus . . . 1087—1100 Henry I. 1100—1135 Ste2)Jie)i 1135—1154 Henry 11. 1154—1189 Richardl. 1189—1199 Before entering on tlie history of the stormy times which followed the death of Lanfranc, some technical matters again demand attention. It will be necessary, also, to trace yet further some papal developments be- longing to that age of revolutions. . As feudal arrangements were gradually crystalhzed into a legal system, the question inevitably arose in what light the estates of bishops and of ecclesiastical corpora- tions were to be regarded. The sovereigns of Europe naturally considered them as parts of their dominions, liable to contribute like other lands to the support of the power to which they owed allegiance. Under some hmitations this obligation was not denied. But the question of feudal allegiance took another form which caused the gravest political difficulties. In that age visible signs were employed in conferring power or ownership of property. Since the days of Charlemagne, ^ or at least one of his successors, the reception by a newly consecrated prelate of a ring and crozier from ^ Hallam, Mid. Ages, c. vii. EPISCOPAL INVESTITURE. 167 the sovereign had been the sign of formal investiture in all the rights and honours of the see. But Hilde- brand saw in this ceremony a mark of bondage to the State which must be obhterated. In 1080 he made ^ this decree : ' If any man henceforth shall accept a bishopric or abbacy at the hands of a layman, let him not be held as bishop or abbot, nor let any hearing be given to him as to a bishop or abbot. Moreover, we interdict to him the grace of St. Peter and the entry of the Church until by repentance he has given up the place which wrongfully by canvassing and disobedience (which is the sin of idolatry) he has taken. In Hke manner we ordain about the lower dignitaries of the Church. ' If any emperor, king, duke, marquis, count, or any secular potentate or person, shall presume to give investiture of bishoprics or any ecclesiastical dignity, let him know that he is bound by the same sentence. Moreover, unless he repent and restore the proper liberty of the Church, let him feel the vengeance of divine punishment in this hfe both in body and in other respects, that his soul may be saved at the coming of the Lord.' Thus was the gauntlet thrown down before the princes of Europe, and the battle of investitures must be the first of the series of combats to be described. As this decree of investitures came into force the mode of episcopal elections which supervened becomes important to notice. From the earhest times a body of clergy had been associated with the bishop in his ca- thedral church. What tlieir precise functions may have been, beside the responsibility of performing the cathedral services, is a matter of gi^ave antiquarian 1 LaLLe, Councils, vol. x. a.d. 1080, ed. 1G71. 168 HISTORY OF THE CHUR€H OF ENGLAND. discussion. But some such corporate body was at- tached to each cathedral. In England some of these, as, for example, at Canterbury since the time of Dun- stan, were monastic bodies. In these cases the head of the monastery with his monks, in addition to their ordinary duties, constituted the chapter or ruhng body of the cathedral. In other cases, for example in the London diocese, the cathedral clergy took no monastic vow, but were a body of canons under the headship of a dean. Attempts had been made in former times to reduce the canons under some kind of monastic rule. But these had failed. One manifest point of difference was this : Unlike monks, who could hold no separate interest in the monastery lands, the canons might enjoy separate endowments, called prebends, belonging to the cathedral, but not merged in its common property. These, often wealthy, prebends conduced to non-resi- dence, and gradually resident and non-resident canons became recognised facts. When the twelfth century dawned with its rapidly maturing ecclesiastical troubles, the people had long lost their right of electing their bishop. The old Saxon mode of appointment by the king,^ with or without his Witan, was disputed by the new papal statutes ; and when a compromise was sought between king and pope, the cathedral chapter was selected as a convenient con- stituent body to hold the illusory right of episcopal election. It was a hapless fate. The pope held over them the rod of canonical obedience, and his absolute claim of the right to reject any nominee but the one pleasing to himself. The king brought to bear upon them the pressure of regal authority, which, save in times of weakness, usually compelled them to elect his 1 See page 130. CHAPKACTEr. OF ANSELM. 169 candidate. Still, though little more than a mockery, the mere form of election to so high a dignity, coupled with continual efforts to make tlie right a reahty, tended to confer additional importance on a seat in the capitu- lar bodies of cathedral churches. With these prefatory notes the thread of Enghsh Church history after the death of Lanfranc may be re- sumed. WiUiam Eufus was on the throne. He had all the defects of the Norman character without its ex- cellences. Eude, profligate, and coarse, he ' feared not God, neither regarded man.' All Normans regarded Anselm, Abbot of Bee, Lanfranc's old monastery, as the man most worthy to succeed him in the see of Canter- bury. Anselm, hke his predecessor, was of North Itahan origin, born at Aosta in Piedmont, 1033. He was a pupil of Lanfranc in the Abbey of Bee, where he succeeded him as prior and afterwards became abbot. If Anselm had been known only as a scholar and divine, his name would have shone forth with untarnished lustre. Dean Milman ^ thus gives his mental portrait : ' In his philosophy, as in his character. Faith was the priest who stood alone in the sanctuary of his heart ; Eeason, the awestruck and reverential minister, was to seek satisfaction, not from the doubts (for from doubts Anselm would have recoiled as from treason against God), but for those grave questionings, how far and in what manner the harmony was to be estabhshed be- tween the Godhead of Eevelation and of reason. The theology of the Churcli in all its most imperious dogma- tism was the irrefragable truth from which Anselm set out. . . . Faitli condescended to knowledge, not be- cause faith was insufficient, but because knowledge was, ^ Latin Chnstianiii/, viii. 5. 170 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. as it were, in the contemplative mind a necessary fruit of faith. He could not understand unless he first believed.' The list of Anselm's works is a formidable catalogue. These are a few amongst the number, — ' On the Essence of the Godhead ; ' ' Original Sin;' Tree Will;' 'On the Contempt of the World.' These titles will suggest, on the one hand, the philosophical conceptions which, with great logical keenness, he analysed in their metaphysical bearings, and, on the other, the contemplative monastic spirit by which he was no less distinguished. But the treatise for which he is best known in our own time is the ' Cur Deus Homo,' a tract in the form of a dialogue, in which he analyses with the severest but clearest logi- cal deduction the reasons and consequences of the In- carnation as bearing on the redemption of mankind. In our own day this treatise has been severely can- vassed, and some eminent writers have attributed to it an exceptional historical importance as constituting a new era in theology. Those who object to that part of the redemptive work which is represented by the word ' satisfaction,' commonly maintain that it was a dogma unknown to the early Church, and introduced by the authority of Anselm, from whom it has been pro- pagated through the schoolmen and their successors in the Eoman and Protestant Churches. This is strenuously denied by others, who must, however, grant that the luminous clearness of Anselm represented this doctrine to subsequent ages in more defined outlines than it had ever known before. Perhaps some, who most value the treatise, might now be disposed to admit tliat Anselm had attempted to define too closely the debt and satisfaction to God for the sins of mankind after the fashion of a debtor and creditor account WORKS OF ANSELM. 171 among men, a process which with some minds may raise more doubts than it solves. Those who would see the character of Anselm drawn from another side may refer to the chapter of Milner's ' History of the Church,' in which he dwells with love and admiration on the grasp which this great divine laid upon the work and person of the Eedeemer, and tlie sanctifying grace of the Holy Spirit. One wlio unites in himself the suffrages of the Koman theologian, the Protestant historian, and the philosophical analyst must have had no common excellences. As a metaphy- sician, in his great controversy with Abelard Anselm dealt with some of the greatest problems which have vexed modern thought. How are we assured of the existence of God ? Anselm answered with the realist school that the very fact of the idea of God being found in the mind of the creature was the proof of His exist- ence. The mind of the creature cannot create ; it per- ceives what God communicates to it or imprints ^ upon it. This was the man who, in an evil day for his peace and for the tranquillity of England, was brought into connection and inevitable collision with the fierce Nor- man king. The recluse scholar, the venerated of the monastery, the revered of many disciples, unaccustomed to opposition, was summoned, when past threescore years of age, to deal with hard men and evil times. The story of Anselm's troubled Hfe has been given to us in such graphic detail by his devoted attendant Eadmer, that the very abundance constitutes a difficulty. An epitomising treatment, however needful, seems harsh and uninviting, after the full tide of twelfth century hfe which flows through that faithful chaplain's narrative. ^ For Anselm's philosophy see Neander, Church History, vol. viii. 172 PIISTOPtY OF THE CHUECH OF ENGLAND. With a view to history rather than to biography, a selection ^ may be made of such scenes as may illustrate the progress of the campaign which the popes were now carrying on to settle the investiture question. There were many side questions and many detached skir- mishes, but the main battle lay around the investitures, and into this strucjo-le Anselm threw himself with all the power of his nature. His hfe will display the progress and the conclusion of the dispute. For four years Eufus kept the see of Canterbury vacant. Partly, perhaps, from the love of arbitrary power and his unwillingness to have a man whose official duty it would be to check his excesses. But chiefly because the vast estates belonging to the Primate threw their revenue into the royal coffers. On feudal principles Canterbury was treated as a lapsed or vacant fief, and the monks and tenants of the see were loud in their complaints. Ecclesiastical landlords in those days were the least oppressive, and the king's agents, hke a grasping farmer with a short lease, were determined to squeeze all they could out of the land, regardless of the state in which they might leave it. The Canterbury monk ^ records with a shiver of re- collection how the rents were raised year by year, and how ' you might see the basest of men, contemptuous of monastic hohness, stalking through the cloisters with scowling and menacing brow, demanding money for the king, rushing here and there, lavishing threats, and boasting of their poAver and authority.' These arbitrary proceedings were extended to other sees and dignities, and uneasiness spread not only among the ecclesiastics, but among the nobles, who began to urge the king to 1 This account of Aiiselm follows Eadmer, Historia Kovcnwi, * Eadmer, Hist. Nov., i. ANSELM BECOMES ARCHBISHOP. 173 give them an archbishop. Ansehn was suggested to him as the fittest person. Eufus swore his favourite oath, ' by the holy face of Lucca/ that neither Anselm nor any other except himself should be archbishop for the present.' At this time Anselm was paying a prolonged visit to England. His biographers are exceedingly anxious to clear his memory of tlie very smallest desire for the vacant archbishopric. Yet it is quite certain that there was a very influential movement among some of the Norman nobles and ecclesiastics to secure his appoint- ment, and equally certain that he was aware of it, while the king on his part roughly resented the pressure. At this time and under these circumstances, Anselm visited England, and was detained, as his biographers would have us believe, against his will. Be this as it may, EufLis w^as attacked with a severe illness at Gloucester early in 1093. Bishops, abbots, and nobles were gathered round his bed, exj)ecting his death. It was suggested to the sick man that in caring for the salva- tion of his soul some atonement for past oppression was needed. He ought to set free prisoners, remit debts, place pastors in the churches he had seized, and espe- cially restore the liberty of the Church of Canterbury. We are asked to believe that it was without any know- ledge of what was going on that Anselm was then livino" near Gloucester, and was now summoned to tlie royal presence with all speed. After receiving tlie kin(»-'s vows of amendment of life he stood aside. Eufus was again pressed on the subject of the archbishopric, and intimated that he was then considering it. Shortly he declared amid general applause, ' Abbot Anselm is most worthy of that honour.' The scene which followed in the * A cruL-iiix reuowncd for its miracles. 174 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. king's sick chamber is almost unimaginable. All that can be said is that the prevaihng monastic type of hohness deemed such a struggle with worldly greatness befitting one of saintly aspirations. Anselm turned pale at the king's words, but was seized and dragged to the bed- side that he might receive investiture by taking the pastoral staff from the king's hands. He struggled with his captors, and protested that he would never consent. Then followed a long dramatic scene, fervent protesta- tions from the bishops, from the king, from the atten- dant monks — vehement denials on the part of Anselm. All in vain ! The king called upon them all to fall down at the feet of the abbots and break him with their entreaties. But the abbot fell down also amongst them, and we are to imagine them all grovelling on the floor together, while the red king shouted to them from the bed. This was too much, and the undignified drama must be brought to a close. Wrought up to the need- ful pitch of excitement, they shouted, ' Bring hither the pastoral staff — the pastoral staff ! ' They held the ab- bot's right hand ; some dragged him, some pushed him, and so they brought him to the bed where the king was lying. The king held out to him the staff ; but he closed his hand and would not receive it. The bishops then strove for a long time in vain to force his fingers, which were clenched upon the palm. At length the forefinger was raised, the staff was placed oli his closed hand, and held there by the bishops. Then acclama- tions were raised — ' Long live the Bishop ! ' The bishops and clergy began to chant with full voice the Te Deiim, and carried rather than led Anselm into the neighbour- ins church. He wrote afterwards to his brethren at Bee : ' It looked a dubious point whether insane men were dragging a sane one, or sane men dragging a mad- ANSELM RECEIVES INVESTITURE. 175 man.' There were more protests, there were letters, and tears, but nothing more. So Ansehn became arch- bishop of Canterbury, and (which is the main point at present) received investiture by the staff at the king's hands. Still considerable difficulties arose from the king's refusal on his recovery to reverse his arbitrary proceedings, and his unwillingness to make full restitu- tion of the lands and privileges of the see of Canterbury. At length these impediments were surmounted or evaded for the present. Anselm did homage to the king in full assembly of the nobles at Winchester, and received possession of the temporalities of the archbishopric. He was consecrated in December 1093, and so entered upon his calamitous office. Thenceforward he found himself thwarted at every turn by the opposition of the king, which he seems to have aroused by some ill-timed resistance. The kings for many centuries looked to the bishops for liberal contributions on all occasions of State necessities. Anselm dechned any but the most Hmited aid ; he feared it might look like simony, and would bend to no persuasions. He asked the king for permis- sion to hold synods. Eufus replied, ' When I think it good I mil see to this ; but it will be for my own plea- sure, not for thine.' He besought him to fill up the vacant abbacies, and received the angry answer : ' What hast thou to do with it ? Are not the abbacies mine ? Thou dost what thou wilt with thy farms, and may not I do what I will with mine abbacies ? ' So things went on, until Anselm made the usual request for permission to go to the pope to receive the pall. A further difficulty arose here. Two rival popes were claiming the alle- giance of Christendom. Was Clement III. or Urban II. the true pope? It was a question on wliich Eufus might conveniently and even reasonably dou])t. So 176 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. he rejoined, ' From which pope dost thou wish to re- ceive it ? ' ' From Urban,' rephed Ansehn. Eufus an- swered that ' neither his father nor himself had ever permitted anyone to be acknowledged as pope in Eng- land without his approval ; to do otherwise was the same thing as to aim at taking his crown.' Violent as Eufus was, he had inherited from his father a just poli- tical perception of the importance of the principle now at stake. He might contend with passion ; but in this case it was clear that the ecclesiastical jurisdiction was pitted against the royal prerogative, which also em- bodied in this matter national independence. Thenceforward each archbishop in his turn was made to feel at critical moments the pain of a divided allegiance. The form of homage to the king conflicted with the oath of allegiance to the pope. In the last hour of Eoman bondage, the discrepancy startled Cran- mer. He could hardly have been more than dimly conscious how far in separation from the Eoman See he would have to travel. But in taking the two contra- dictory oaths of papal and royal vassalage, which his predecessors had taken and reconciled to their con- sciences as best they might, he recorded a protest that the laws of God^ the statutes of the realm, and the king's prerogative should rank first in his obedience. It is interesting to see Ansehn face to face with the same difficulty for the first time in English history. He stood alone or almost alone in the kingdom. Tlie nobles and the rest of the bishops urged him to submit to the king. Ansehn rephed with a clear statement of this grave difficulty of conscience. He prayed his fellow- bishops to lielp him in the sore strait how he might unite fidelity to the king with obedience to the Holy See. ' I beseech you,' said he, ' to advise me how I may DIFFICULTIES OF DIVIDED ALLEGIANCE. 177 do nothing contrary to my obedience to the pope, and not offend against that fidehty which I owe to my lord the king. It is a grave matter to deny by contempt the vicar of the blessed Peter. It is a grave matter to violate the faith I have promised the king. Grave, indeed, is that which is urged upon me, that it is impos- sible to keep one of these without violating the other.' The bishops advised submission to the king. Anselm, replied with the most absolute declaration of the doc- trine of Peter's succession, and his own unreserved obe- dience to the pope in all the things of God. His reply was received by the king with extreme wrath, and the bishops returned with tliis message : ' The king requires an immediate reply without ambiguity to his demands. The whole kingdom is complaining of this attempt against the imperial dignity and crown of our common lord. For whosoever takes away the prerogatives of the royal dignity, takes the crown and kingdom. Con- sider the matter, we pray thee ; abandon the obedience of this Urban, who can do nothing for thee against an angry king. Cast off his yoke. Be free, as an arch- bishop of Canterbury should be, awaiting the declara- tion of the royal will. Acknowledge thy fault, and hke a wise man accept the king's wish, and put to shame thine enemies.' But the firmness of Anselm defeated all attempts to move him. Against so high a dig- nitary all ordinary modes of prosecution failed, and something like a dead-lock followed. Then came an unexpected pohtical manoeuvre on the part of the king. He negotiated directly witli Urban, promising to ac- knowledge him as pope, and stipulating tluit the arch- bishop's pall should be sent to the king himself. A legate arrived bearing tlie pall ; Eufus attempted to negotiate with hiui for the deposition of Anselm, but 178 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. tlie attempt failed. Ultimately, Anselm stipulated that the legate should lay the pall on the altar at Canterbury ; he would then take it ' as from the hand of the blessed Peter.' Thus the constitutional difficulty was sur- mounted, or at least evaded, and peace seemed to be possible. But the king refused to redress the wrongs of which Anselm complained, and he demanded license to pro- ceed to Eome. The king replied : ' It is useless. We do not beheve he has committed such a sin as to need the pope's special absolution. And as for counsel, he is better able to give it to the pope, than the pope to him.' The archbishop still pressed his demand till the king answered : ' If he goes let him know that I shall take the whole of his archbishopric into my own hands, and no longer receive him as archbishop.' The end of these weary proceedings came at length. In the latter part of 1097 Anselm found his way to Eome, where he was received with high honour. But the emissaries of Eufus quickly followed him, and by means which were well known in those times, suc- ceeded in delaying the threatened excommunication. But in all these contests time was on the side of Eome. Principles are seldom very clear to the popular mind, and are soon forgotten. What was manifest to the world was the violence of an arbitrary king, the sufferings of the tenants on the sequestrated estates of Canterbury, a Church thrown into confusion by the absence of its head, and the greatest divine in Christendom, of unim- peached sanctity of character, in distant exile. It was a losing game for the Crown of England. Time went on. Urban died in 1099, and William Eufus received the news. ' Let him incur God's hatred who cares for that,' replied he ; ' but what sort of a man DEATH OF WILLIAM EUFUS. 179 is he who is now pope ? ' 'In some things hke Ansehn.' ' By the face of God he is of no account then. But he shall stand by himself, for by this and by that, his papacy shall not this time extend over me. I have my liberty, and shall do what I will.' Eough and coarse indeed ! Yet this he resolved, no man should be pope in England without his sanction. One more year and the Eed King himself was laid where he could rage no more. Evil were those days for England both in Church and State. They made the claims of Eome seem more than tolerable. Some earthly arbiter was needful against overbearing tyranny. The Saxon chronicler gives this epitome of his reign : ^ 'In his days each right fell, and each unright for God and for world uprose. God's churches he brought low, and the bisho]3rics and the abbacies, whose elders fell in his days, all he either sold with fee or in his own hand held, or set to gavel ; for that he would be the heir of each man, ordained and lay. And so on the day that he fell, he had in his own hand the archbisliopric of Canterbury, and the bishopric of Winchester and of Sahsbury, and eleven abbacies all set to gavel. . . . He was hateful to all his people, and an adversary to God. He departed in the midst of his unrighteousness witliout repentance or satisfaction.' The accession of Henry I. removed the worst of these evils. The same chronicles '^ which record the misdeeds of Eufus, say of Henry : ' Good man he was, and mickle awe was of him. Durst no man misdo with other in his time. Peace he made for man and deer.' In him men saw a sovereign born to an Englisli king on English soil, wedded to a lady of royal English descent. He was chosen by the Witan at Winchester in the old Saxon ^ Sa.ro7i Chron., 1100, from Freeman, ch. xxiii. ^ Ibid. y 2 180 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. fashion wlien Eiifus was buried. ' As soon as he buried was, the Witan that near at hand was his brother Henry to king chose.' He straightway set forth that charter upon whicli Magna Charta itself professed to have its basis. Its terms are generally described as a restora- tion of the laws of King Edward, with such modifica- tions as the Conqueror had introduced. The bishoprics were now filled up, and at the king's warm invitation Anselm returned to his see, landing at Dover after an absence of about three years. ^ But the new ideas of ecclesiastical domination created fresh difii- culties, and Anselm soon left England once more to seek support at Rome. It has been seen^ that he had received investiture at the hands of Eufus without scruple. His subsequent residence at the Papal Court had now made the whole investiture controversy familiar to him. The decree of 1080,^ and the whole subsequent action of the papacy, were now before him, and his firmness was once more put to a severe trial. The question was at once raised when he had audience of the king, who required him, according to ancient custom, to do homage for his see, and to receive his archbishopric from the royal hand. Anselm at once declined, alleging that what he had learned in Eome interposed an invincible obstacle. Henry was much disturbed. ' It seemed to him a grave matter to lose the investiture of churches and the homage of prelates. Grave also it was should Anselm leave the kingdom while his own power was scarcely established. In the one case he seemed to lose half his kingdom : in the other Anselm might join his brother Eobert in Normandy and make terms with him.' So ^ Ellis, Orig. Letters, iii. i. 11. 2 See page 175. ^ g^e page 167. ANSELM'S SECOND VISIT TO ROME. 181 the king took refuge in delay, and tried what could be done with the pope. The pope, as might have been foreseen, was polite but uncompromising in his reply. The papal law had been declared — a pope may tempo- rise, but he never recedes. So Paschal 11. rephed that ' illegal marriage is but adultery. An adulterous Church is that which has not been lawfully married. The Church alone, not the lay power, can marry the bishop to his Church, for he, according to the law of Scripture, is its husband. Therefore let no Christian king pollute his mother Church by irregular espousals.' The argu- ment was strange, but those who might have been able to gainsay it accepted the doctrine ; and at any rate what was intended was sufficiently clear. Henry con- ducted the controversy with more temper and judgment than his brother had done ; but his policy was the same ; he would not allow the royal prerogative as it had been exercised by his predecessors to be diminished. So the time came when Anselm, with the acquiescence of the king, embarked once more on his journey to Eome, saihng from Dover in April 1103. He arrived at the Papal Court to find Henry's ambassador there before him. The same Wilham of Warelwast who had been employed by Eufus was sent on this embassy also. But on the main point the pope was inexorable. Thus the negotiations dragged on until at length ecclesiastical persistence was too much, as in those ages it always was, for the temporising civil power, which had no principle and nothing but a shifting policy for its sup- port. So the day came at last when Henry consented to a compromise. Anselm returned to England, and a great council was held in the royal palace at London. There was still a party who wished the king to maintain the custom of his ancestors. But Henry, in the presence 182 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND, of Anselm, decreed that ' from that time no one should receive investiture of bishopric or abbacy from king or any lay hand by presentation of pastoral staff or ring.' Anselm on his part promised ' that no one elected to a prelacy should fail to be consecrated by reason of homage done to the king.' This last had been forbidden by Pope Urban. Thus the articles of peace were signed, and the war of investitures ceased to rage early in August 1106. Henry also promised no longer to nominate to bishoprics, but to grant a conge d'elire to the cathedral chapters. How illusory this elective right has been, and how the kings of England, with or without legal sanction, have known how to control the chapters, need scarcely here be said. A very similar compromise was effected a few years afterwards between the pope and the Emperor Henry V. In the Enghsh case it was done at the cost of not much more than negotiation and ex- penditure of money at the Papal Court. In the Imperial contest many a battle had been lost and won, and many thousands of hves had been sacrificed before the claims of the pope and the emperor could be adjusted. If we ask what Henry had really lost, it may be replied that in the judgment of Hallam^ the retention of the feudal sovereignty was no equivalent for that which was aban- doned. For the bishops were now made dependent on the see of Eome for their investiture into their spiritual authority. If this were withheld, in vain Avould be the temporal estates which the sovereign might confer. If this were granted, the essence of power had been con- veyed, and to withhold the temporalities of the see would be of little avail, and indeed scarcely possible. Anselm returned to England on the adjustment of ^ Mid. Ages, cli. vii. INTEUSION OF PAPAL LEGATES. 183 this dispute, and in 1109 closed his stormy archi- episcopate in peace and honour. There is httle of general interest attached to his administration beyond the facts already set forth. He was the first thoroughly Papal archbishop of Canterbury; the first Primate of England who carried an appeal against his own sove- reign. He subjected the Enghsh Church to the Hilde- brandine legislation. Having found it as free as a national Church could then be, he left it at the feet of the Eoman Pontiff, as subsequent sovereigns discovered when it was too late. Henry I. survived Anselm many years, during which there was no material change in ecclesiastical affairs, except one most significant sign of the advance of papal encroachments on the independence of the Enghsh Church, namely, the new position assumed by the legates of the pope. ' Previously to the latter part of the tenth age, papal legates had been sent not frequently and upon special occasions.' ^ In Saxon times they had scarcely found admission into England, the chief in- stance being the presence of such a functionary at Cloveshoo, when the question of the Lichfield arch- bishopric was settled. But when the Hildebrandine legislation called into life the principles of the Pseudo- Isidorian decretals, the movements of these emissaries became more frequent and more menacing to local authority whether ecclesiastical or civil. Where they appeared, they assumed to bring with them the supreme authority of the pope, and to take precedence of metro- politans themselves. Nothing could well be more galling to an archbishop's just feelings of dignity, than thus to find a foreigner, who might be merely a deacon, superseding his authority and claiming the privilege of 1 Ilallam, Mid. Ayes, ch. vii. 184 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. living in luxury at liis expense. In the latter days of Henry I., one of the earliest of these assaults was made on the English Church. In his more vigorous days Henry would have found means to resist the encroacli- ment. But it was an omen of greater troubles yet to come, when in 1125 the papal legate, John of Crema, presided at a synod held at Westminster in the presence of the episcopacy of England. Subsequent ages became more accustomed to these assumptions, but the novelty and strangeness of the occurrence are plainly marked by the tone of Gervase, a monk at Canterbury in the next generation. ' This legate,' says he, ' held a Council at Westminster, and put the whole kingdom into great indignation. For there might you have seen a sight hitherto unknown to the realm of England — a clerk, who had attained no higher grade than that of the priesthood, seated aloft on a throne, and presiding over the whole assembly ; over archbishops, bishops, abbots, and the whole of the nobihty of England ; while they, occupying a lower position, composed their countenances and bridled their lips, like men dependent on his nod.' Gervase also speaks of the legate officiating at high mass on Easter- day instead of the archbishop and with his insignia ; ' an occurrence,' he says, ' which deeply wounded and scandalised the minds of many persons.' Nothing could more clearly indicate, not only the novelty of the occurrence, but also how much the liberty of the ancient realm of England was now violated. William, archbishop of Canterbury, not only submitted to this, but afterwards procured a bull assigning to himself the position of ' legate of the Apostohc see ' in England. If this could be done in the reign of such a sove- reign as Henry I., it may be seen that the precedent was THE REIGN OF STEPHEN. 185 established, the foreign usurpation owned, and it may- be imagined what domination might be exercised over a weaker king and a more disunited people. The sceptre passed from the vigorous hands of Henry to a man personally brave and generous, but en- tirely unfitted to rule in stormy times. We may again permit the chronicler to describe Stephen in the old English idiom. ^ ' The traitors understood that he mild man was, soft and good, and no justice did. In this king's time was all unpeace, and evil and robbery. . . The land was full of castle-works, and when the castles were made, they filled them with devils and evil men. They were the days when wretched men starved of hunger, when some lived on alms that were somewhile rich men, and some fled out of the land. In those days the earth bare no corn, for the land was all. foredone by such deeds, and men said openly that Christ slept and his saints.' In such days the regal authority was utterly shaken, and papal jurisdiction found a more assured entrance. Stephen stooped to describe himself in a charter,'^ as ' confirmed in his kingdom by Innocent, Pontiff of the Holy Eoman See.' Again a legate presided in an Enghsh council, and Theobald, then archbishop of Canterbury, and Henry of Blois bishop of Winchester, intrigued against each other for the privilege of being resident legate in Eng- land. Theobald ultimately prevailed. The result was ' bitter disputes, suits, and appeals on either side, the like to which were hitherto unknown. Lawyers and pleaders were now for the first time called into England.' ^ Theobald had also been abbot of Bee, and naturally, * As given by Freeman, 252, &c. * Freeman, ch. xxiiL * Gervase of Canterbury, 186 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. like his more famous predecessor Anselm, had not the English sentiment of independence. In the disastrous reign of Stephen, and with the arch- bishopric of Theobald, the papal domination over the English Church was definitely consummated, as the history of the next archbishop, Thomas-a-Becket, seems to demonstrate. To this age, and indeed in great measure to Arch- bishop Theobald, must be assigned the rise in England of two new and allied subjects for study : the civil and the canon law. The importance of these in their bear- ing on all future history calls for some delay. The Eoman law, chiefly known from the code of Theodosius, the last sovereign of the undivided Eoman Empire at the close of the fourth century, had never lost its sway in the great cities of the south of France and of Italy. But in the twelfth century the study of the more perfect and scientific code of Justinian arose in Italy. This has been attributed to the discovery of a copy of the Pandects of Justinian at Amalfi, in 1135. However this may be, the study of the works of Jus- tinian's great lawyers was about that time revived. The schools of Italy,^ preeminently those of Bologna, attracted students from all parts of Europe. Thence- forward the Justinian code of the civil law prevailed over a large part of Europe, and at this day forms the basis of the more modern codes which rule in the jurisprudence of the Continent. Archbishop Theobald is said to have been the means of introducing the new study into England. Vacarius, a teacher from Bologna, lectured upon it at Oxford,'^ Although he was at first interrupted, the civil law main- tained its ground in the universities, as a subject of ^ Hallam, Mid. Ages, chap. ix. 2. '^ Gervase ; Blackstone, Introd., 1. THE CIVIL LAW. 187 study through the Middle Ages, and to graduate in it became one of the recognised academical distinctions. But the new system was unable to supersede the older EngUsh law. There had gradually grown up, partly as the inheritance from Saxon times, partly from subse- quent changes, a mass of usages, precedents, and ju- dicial decisions, which regulated the succession to property and the various civil and criminal questions which are brought before courts of justice. This is known as the ' Common law of England.' It was able victoriously to maintain its ground against the intrusive Civil law. The Eoman or Civil law might regulate the pro- ceedings of the Court of Admiralty, of Ecclesiastical Courts and some special tribunals, but in the King's Bench and the great national courts the Common law reigns supreme. It is, as Blackstone styles it, ' a collec- tion of unwritten maxims and customs,' ' handed down .by tradition, use, and experience,' and set forth in the judicial dicta of the Supreme Courts of England for centuries past. It is, therefore, unscientific in arrange- ment, and little adapted for academical study. Whereas the Civil law, digested into carefully arranged sections and setting out from fundamental principles, was suscep- tible of that abstract treatment which the mediaeval universities recognised. Hence, strange as it may seem, English law formed no part of the studies in Enghsli universities, and to graduate in law implied no necessary acquaintance with the Common or Statute Law of the realm. The Civil law, which assumed its form amidst the unbridled despotism of Constantinople in the sixth century, how- ever preferable in some respects to the confused mazes of the Common law, was rejected with a Avise instinct 188 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. by our forefathers. The Common law has nurtured the hberties of Enghshmen. With all its defects, its roots lie in the wild soil of Saxon freedom, and not in the enclosures of Imperial autocracy. The decla- ration of the Parhament of Eichard II. was the senti- ment of all good Enghshmen : — ' The realm of England hath never been unto this hour, neither by the consent of our lord the king and the lords of Parhament shaU it ever be, ruled or governed by the Civil law.' ^ But a more formidable invader than the Civil law found entrance into England by the means, or at least in the time, of Archbishop Theobald. The Canon law was a necessary consequence of the recent develop- ments of the papal power. Where the authority of a sovereign goes, there of necessity his law must go. If the pope now was permitted to exercise power in England in a manner unknown to former ages, the papal Canon law could not be excluded. It was in this age that it received new form and coherence, and at this time that it was admitted into English courts, and was first studied by Enghsh scholars. Thenceforward the canonists became a potent and formidable body, and in the universities the two codes of Civil and of Canon law were jointly read, until Henry VIII. forbad lectures in Cambridge (and probably in Oxford), on the Canon law, as well as conferring degrees in that faculty. Since that time degrees in Canon law have been disused in Eng- land. A treatise on the Canon law would be out of place, but its importance in subsequent history calls for some account of its gradual development, and ultimate conso- lidation. A slight sketch has been already given '^ of its growth up to, and in the time of, Hildebrand. 1 2 Ric. n., Blackstone, hiirod. •. ^ Page 144. THE CANON LAW. 189 About the same time (the middle of the twelfth century) that the study of the Civil law received such a stimulus in the schools of Italy, from whence it spread through Europe, a collection of the Canon law was put forth by Gratian. This work, generally known as the ' Decretum' of Gratian, speedily became the leading autho- rity, and was the text-book for the study of canonists. It may be briefly described as adopting the spurious decre- tals of Isidore, and the additions of the age of Hildebrand. But not content witli this it adopted the contribu- tions of Hildebrand's successors, and carried to a greater height the doctrine of the absolutism of the Papacy. But Gratian's work was added to by subsequent collec- tions ^ and digests in little more than another century, and under the authority of later popes the Canon law re- ceived many modifications. The result of all this labour, this codification of false and genuine papal decrees, may now be briefly stated. The germinal principle may be found in the false decretals. The pope is univer- sal bishop. As this idea was expanded, the pope had become in the thirteenth century the ' Vicar of God ' or ' of Christ.' The bishops were nothing but vicars of the pope. The pope, as king, exercised supreme authority everywhere. The bishop was merely his de- legate, enjoying a power limited by his commission. Councils might indeed be consulted, but since the pope was the sole source of legislative power, law could not bind liim, while he could dispense witli law. He could also absolve from oaths. It was thus tliat the jDapal power in its full development threw tlie mediajval nations of Europe into confusion. No right and no law was certain. The appointment to bishoprics or to any benefice of value miglit at any moment be claimed ^ See Gieseler, iii. 158. 190 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. at Eome. A bishop's jurisdiction was always liable to intrusion or appeal or reversal. The taxation of every benefice, as part of the pon- tiff-king's dominion, was pressed in its harshest form. The power of dispensing with any canonical obligation, and with testamentary arrangements, threw open the doors to chicanery and dishonesty. When these powers were exercised by intruding legates, whose commissions gave them the right of universal interference — when offices were opened in the capitals of Europe for the transaction of all this papal business, and the subordi- nate officials were found even in the remotest districts — when the Eoman ' Curia,' the central body of papal ministers charged with tlie details of this pervading power, became known as venal oppressors — then Europe, and above all England, drank the cup of degradation to the dregs. The cry of the oppressed went up. The indignation of the Protestant, who reads of these things and vents his feelings in some measured epithets of dis- gust, is tame by the side of the outcry of many who were the victims of the system, and whose outburst of anger remains on record. Why, then, did such tyranny endure ? Because, though some perceived that a large part of it was usurpation, yet the vast majority con- ceived it to be only the abuse of a rightful power, and never dreamed that the whole Eoman fabric was a false- hood. The Eeformation, with its subsequent convulsions, has freed the nations of Europe from the incubus. Not only the Protestant powers, but the Eoman Catholic sovereigns, have shaken off the domination of the Canon law. It affects tliem now only indirectly througli its claims on the conscience of their subjects. But its authority has been repudiated, insomuch that the late THE CANON LAW. 191 Pope Pius IX. complained that there was not now a Christian nation in Europe ; that is, not one which is wilhng to admit the Eoman Canon law, to submit to its behests and enforce its decisions. Thus and thus only is it that the taxing authority and the persecuting canons sleep. No European nation, except in a most modified sense, will now consent to be the agent of the pope, and enforce his statutes by the civil power. Eo- man Catholics little know what they owe to the Eefor- mation as a means of deliverance, and Protestants are too ready ungratefully to forget it, because the shattered fabric of the Papacy alone remains. The Canon law, then, must be regarded as a code of slavery. No emphasis is needed to point the remark that the divines and lawyers trained in such a system may well have become what the Eoman canonists have been. When it is further considered that these laws are based on a substructure of forgery, misquotation of councils, and false history, the condition of those who learned to rely upon them may be imagined. The study of the Canon and Civil law became a prominent department in the universities, and the chief road to preferment among the leading ecclesiastics. The great churchmen who were the chancellors and statesmen of the latter period of the papal domina- tion in England were thus rather great civilians and canonists than great divines. This brought its OAvn re- tribution, for it was one great reason for the inability of the Eoman Church to meet tlie terrible onslaught made upon it by the tlieological learning and vigour of the early Eeformers. Thus in the Canon law may be seen tlie formidable weapon which had been gradually forged, tempered, and sharpened for the defence of tlie Papal Supremacy 192 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. in Church and State. Even in its more bkmted and immature forms it had been able to smite heavy blows at regal and national independence. But from the days of the Decretum of Gratian, to say nothing of subse- quent accretions, down to the present epoch of papal allocutions and the Syllabus, all European states have found the Canon law claiming to override their native legislation, their customs, and their policy. In modern times a system of concordats^ in which the pope and the state by mutual concessions have arranged terms of truce, has enabled continental governments to live in some tolerable harmony with the ecclesiastical autho- rities ; but it has always been at the cost of conceding some amount of repressive power to be available at the call of the Church. And wherever England has had to deal with powerful sections of the Eoman Catholic Church, as in Ireland and in Lower Canada, it is the claim of the Canon law to supersede her legislation which has lain at the root of a large part of her difficulties. Archbishop Theobald of Canterbury not only intro- duced the study of this system of Church law into England, but he was also in great measure the means of bringing forward the man who was soon to make England know what that law required. Thomas of London, as Gervase calls him — Thomas-a-Becket as he is known in ordinary history- — liad already distinguished himself as the possessor of great and varied abilities, when about the age of twenty-four he was introduced into the household of archbishop Theobald. The arch- bishop employed him in some delicate and difficult negotiations with the Court of Eome, and enabled him to pursue his legal studies at Bologna under no less a personage than Gratian. Thus moulded into a strong BECKET BECOMES AKCHBISHOP. 193 canonist, Becket was appointed archdeacon of Canter- bury, and held many other valuable preferments in England. He afterwards became chancellor to the new king, Henry H., and was for some few years the prin- cipal agent in peace and war of that able monarch. He was only in deacon's orders, but he was enriched by his manifold Church preferments ; and contemporary writers ^ are unwearied in describing the profusion of wealth and masfnificence which he deliofhted in dis- playing, as chancellor of the realm, as ambassador to the French king, or as leading his troops to the onset. ' Munificent ^ was he above all requirements,' says his faithful Herbert of Bosham ; ' bountiful above all, magnificent in array beyond other men, great in person, great in all his equipments. There Avas nothing about him which was not grand, nothing but magnificence.' With his aid England was reduced to a state of tranquillity from the turbulence in which Stephen had left it, and justice was administered as well as that age understood its claims. About a year after the death of Archbishop Theobald in 1161, through the urgency of Henry, the Chapter of Canterbury elected Becket to the vacant see. The new archbishop had scarcely felt the mitre secure on his brow before his impetuous nature urged him along the path of ecclesiastical ambition, which his learning in the Canon law opened out before him. The subordination of National law to the law of the Church is a fundamental principle with the canonist. Omitting other phases of the struggle with the royal power, it may be well to fix the attention on that which became the central point of the contest, and which so remained until the Eighth Henry at last wrested it from the weakened hands of the clergy. This was the prin- ' See FitzciteplieD, 100-20], ed. Gik-s. ^ Herbert of Bofchaiii, ii. 11. 0 194 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. ciple of the Canon law, that all ecclesiastics were exempt from secular jurisdiction. An ecclesiastic might be seized red-handed with his murdered victim lying before him, but no civil court might presume to touch his sacred person. He must be delivered to the custody of his bishop, and no secular magistrate might enquire how the Church was pleased to deal with its erring servant. It was in defence of this monstrous exemption that Becket was brought into open conflict with the king and nobility of England, and it may be added, with a large part of the episcopate. Henry had succeeded in reducing England once more under the reign of law. The murders and robberies which were the legacy of Stephen's anarchical days had been stayed by the strong hand of justice. But there were numerous offenders who claimed exemption from the jurisdiction of the civil magistrate. There were not a few delinquent priests, but below them was a multi- tude in some sort appertaining to the Church — porters, sextons, and others, set apart by some grade of the minor orders, claiming the privilege of clergy, over whom the Canon law held its sheltering shield of exemp- tion. It was not merely irregularity of hfe (Henry was not the man to regard matters of morality), but it was absolute ruffianism and outrage which were laid to the charge of men claiming the clerical character. One writer says that more than a hundred murders had been committed by them since Henry had received the crown. Be this as it may, Becket's own supporters speak in immeasured lang^uacre of these curses to the clerical ranks. 'Workmen^ of the devil, in name clergymen, but belonging to Satan, perpetrators of enormous crimes, * Herbert, iii. 17. PRIVILEGES OF THE CLEHGY. 195 violators of the peace.' Henry called a council at West- minster, 1163, and proposed to the leading prelates that convicted offenders of this class should be degraded from their orders and handed over to the civil power. The bishops were for the most part ready to accept so rea- sonable a solution. But Becket saw that it was a con- cession to the State, which tended to break down tlie principle of the Canon law. If one jurisdiction should in any degree yield to the other, it should be rather the State to the Church than the Church to the State. The archbishop took his stand. His watchword hence- forth was ' The Franchises of Holy Church,' and the struggle between him and the justly irritated monarch became defined and envenomed. Whatever passion was imported into the contro- versy, there is nothing with which the modern con- science will not heartily sympathise in the dignified appeal of Henry as reported by Becket's warmest par- tisan, Edward Grim.^ ' I have sworn to maintain justice and peace in the realm committed to me, and to condemn wrongdoers by just judgment according to their deserts. Hitherto I have done this, and I would do it if the archbishop did not vex us and the kingdom with his obstinacy. He protects with his authority murderers^ thieves, and sacrilegious persons. He supports the enemies of jus- tice, he offers peace to those who break the peace of the realm. Justly, do we prosecute clerks, than wliom greater villains can scarcely be found. He draws forth and frees from public custody guilty men, and under threat of interdict he prevents my court from doing justice. What is my kingdom worth if the laws of justice perish ? Yet they do perish if I shall spare these ^ Grim, Vita S. T., 35, 0 2 196 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. men. Let clerks be given over to the executive power, let them be deprived of their orders, and be subjected to penalties according to the laws.' The reply of the archbishop shall be equally given in the words of his faithful friend, Herbert of Bosham. ' My lord the king, holy Church, the mother of all, both kings and priests, hath two kings, two laws, two jurisdictions, two coercions. Two kings, Christ the heavenly king, and the earthly king ; two laws, human and divine ; two jurisdictions, sacerdotal and legal ; two coercions, spiritual and corporal. Lo, here are two swords. It is enough saith the Lord. Those called clergy by reason of their office have Christ alone for their king. They are sealed to him by the character imposed on their head. By the privi- lege of their office and order they are not subject but superior to earthly kings. The king hath no juris- diction over them, but they are rather the judges of kings. Contemptible and unwarlike they may be, yet as a great king and prophet said of them, they bind the kings of the nations in chains and the nobles of the world in fetters of iron. Therefore they are not subject to the kings of the world, but to their own king, the Kincr of heaven ; they are ruled by their own law, and if transgressors, they are punished by their own law, which hath its own modes of coercion. Shameful were it that the hands consecrated to God, which had lately held forth on the altar the image of the crucified King and Saviour, now tied behind the back should serve as the figure of the robber — and that the head imbued with the sacred unction should hang upon the vile gal- lows— the head of him before whose feet the royal majesty itself had bent seeking grace and pardon.' The reader has both before him, the royal sense of CONSTITUTIONS OF CLARENDON. 197 justice, and the sublime nonsense of the archbishop. Both are given from the report of the archbishop's friends, and they ' go before unto judgment.' The issue is clear and cannot be mistaken. For a time Becket was supported by the bishops of his province, but his extreme violence and the severe and determined tone of Henry alarmed them, and tliey fell off from him. In this stage of the proceedings Becket found himself isolated to a degree which made him waver. The pope himself, to whom the support of Henry was pecuHarly valuable, counselled a compromise ; ^ the leading Eng- lish bishops were unwilling to follow the archbishop, and Henry obtained a promise from Becket that he would conform to the usages of England and the ancient royal constitutions. The king now summoned '^^ a council of the chief prelates and nobles of the kingdom at his manor of Clarendon, near Salisbury. This council met in 1164, and drew up, under sixteen heads, an adjust- ment of the relations of Church and State. These ordi- nances, generally known as the Constitutions of Clarendon^ claimed to be a re-vindication of the original principles of English law and usage before they had been contra- vened by the novelties of the Canon law. The following is perhaps as accurate an epitome of some of the chief of these Constitutions as brevity will permit : — 1. Questions as to the right of presentation to churches should be settled in the king's courts. 3. Clerks accused of crime should answer in the king's court for whatever that court should rule to be within its jurisdiction, and if convicted the Church should not protect them. 4. The prelates should not leave the kingdom with- 1 Grim, p. 2G. 2 i^. Wendover, a.d. 11G4. 198 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. out royal license, or without giving security, at the king's pleasure, that in their absence they should abstain from any act injurious to the kingdom. 7. None of the king's feudatories or servants should be excommunicated without due consultation with the king, or his chief justiciary, in order to keep intact the jurisdiction of the royal courts. 8. Appeals should lie in the following order : — From the archdeacon to the bishop, then to the archbishop, who might be compelled to act in the cause by royal mandate. No further appeal should proceed without consent of the king, 11. The prelates should hold their estates as barons of the realm on the same footing and under the same conditions as other barons. 12. The king should receive the revenues of vacant bishoprics or abbacies. In filling up such vacancies, the king's recommendation should be made, and the election held in the king's chapel with his consent and in the presence of his advisers. The prelate elect should at once do homage and fealty to the king. 16. The sons of rustics should not be ordained with- out their lord's permission. A century had scarcely elapsed since similar dis- tinctions had been laid down by the Conqueror and accepted by Lanfranc ; but two or three generations trained in the Canon law severed the days of Henry II. from those of William by a vast interval of thought and practice. The Constitutions of Clarendon represent simply what the Crown of England held to be its right- ful prerogative and true historical footing in the twelfth century. But the weakness or political necessities of the kings of England made them but too generally a dead letter for nearly four centuries more, until the BECKET ACCEPTS THE CONSTITUTIONS. 199 Eighth Henry finally and indelibly wrote their principles in the Statute Book. Whatever promise of submission Becket had made to the king he faltered and drew back when this for- midable document was submitted to him for his accept- ance. At length he yielded ; ^ under what influence, and with what motive, his biographers are not agreed. But in a statement by the Bishop of London, admitted as genuine by some of our best historians,^ Becket is said thus to have addressed the assembled bishops : ' It is God's will that I should perjure myself; for the present I submit and incur the guilt of perjury, to repent of it hereafter as best I may.' Perjure himself he certainly did. He accepted the Constitutions, but assumed the guise of a penitent ; suspended himself from the performance of his ecclesiastical functions, and sought and obtained papal absolution. The terms of that absolution ^ are singularly politic. The name of the king, or any allusion to any contest with him, is not so much as mentioned. The pope chooses to understand vaguely that ' some irregularity had led the archbishop to cease from saying mass.' He then bids him ' consider the difference between a deh- berate and voluntary act, and one committed in igno- rance, OT from necessity.' ' If, therefore, you can charge yourself with any act by which your conscience is annoyed, whatever it may be, we advise you to repent thereof, and to confess it to some discreet and prudent priest . . . and we . . . absolve you from what you have done, and by our apostolicalauthority set you free there- from.' Once more Becket was summoned to the king's presence at a great council held at Northampton. * R. Weudover. ^ Milman, iii. 464 EobertsoD, &c. ^ K^ Wendover. 200 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. There the bishops and nobles of England openly aban- doned his cause. Fearing for his life he fled by night, and ultimately succeeded in crossing the Channel in an open boat, to prosecute the appeal he had made to the decision of the pope himself. The exile of Becket lasted about six years. His revenues were confiscated to the king's use, but he was enabled to some extent to keep up the state of an archbishop of Canterbury by the liberality of the French monarch and the abbeys which gave him shelter. There are most contradictory accounts given by Avriters of hagiology about his own personal conduct during his exile. Some depict him as the model saint, groaning in sackcloth and under the lash of the voluntary ' disci- pline,' mingling his drink with bitter herbs, and feeding on the pulse of the Cistercians, while he gave himself to the study of Scripture. Some of his own friends, on the other hand, reproached him, as one talking of the martyr's crown, yet indulging in delicate viands. John of Salisbury plainly told him that the study of the law or the canons could bring no contrition, and that he had far better study the Psalms or Gregory's Morals. This seems nearer the truth, if he may be judged by all that followed. The pope no doubt wished to temporise. He would not give up any right of the Church, but he did not wisli to be forced into a dangerous conflict with the king and nobles of England. He wrote to Becket, ' to strive, without surrendering the liberty of the Church, to recover the goodwill of the king, and to bear with liim for a time, hoping that the Lord might give better days.' But the indomitable spirit of the primate forced the pontiff into more decided measures than he would other- wise have wished to take. Henry, on his part, one of RETURN OF BECKET. 201 the ablest statesmen of tlie time when his passion did not cloud his understanding, used all the resources of diplomacy to obtain a settlement in accordance with his own will, or at least to effect some reasonable compro- mise. To follow the course of the envenomed contro- versy would be tedious. Excommunications were hurled at the chief advisers of the king, and there were re- newed appeals on both sides to the pope. Wearied out, at length, the king yielded. How far he consented to revoke the Constitutions of Clarendon is a question which has received very different answers.^ But there seems rather to have been a tacit consent to a drawn battle, neither party withdrawing his preten- sions. Henry consented to be reconciled to Becket, and to sanction his return without conditions, as though those obnoxious laws were not in existence. The pri- mate landed at Sandwich,^ December 1, 1170. He came full of wrath and defiance, but was saluted with popular enthusiasm. He had to mete out punishment to all who in any way had contributed to his sufferings, had intercepted his revenues, or touched his dignity. The archbishop of York had recently presumed to set the crown by the king's desire on the head of the heir to the kingdom, whom Henry wished to be crowned during his lifetime. Becket pronounced him ' suspended from every office appertaining to his episcopal dignity.' The bishops of London and Salisbury were dealt with in like manner. On Christmas Hay, preaching in liis cathedral, liaving wrought the people into fi'enzy with his impassioned declamation, he concluded liis discourse by excommunicating some of his personal foes and the three prelates wlio had encroached on his rights at the coro- nation : ' May they be cursed,' said he, ' by Jesus Christ, 1 Robertson, Life of Becket, p. 243. ^ ^x. Wendover. 202 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. and may their memory be blotted out of the assembly of the saints, whoever shall sow hatred and discord between me and my lord the king.' That which followed is well knoAvn. The three sus- pended prelates presented themselves to Henry in Nor- mandy. In a passion indescribable he pronounced the fatal words, and the four knights went forth on their murderous errand. In a few days that haughty and defiant spirit had wrought out the fearful issue ; and on the 29th of December, 1170, the monks were keep- ing watch over the corpse of the murdered archbishop. Few events have ever left so indehble an impression on any age. Besides all the histories very near to the event, we possess the narrative of four who profess themselves to have witnessed the scene of blood, and of at least six who were at hand, or most nearly connected with the archbishop. Every word and every detail of the horrible story has thus been handed down, and they have been more than once reproduced to our age in masterly narrative.^ To condense them would take away their graphic force and tragic interest. Enough for us it is to mark the principles at stake. At first, some of those nearest to him were slow to recog- nise anything which might constitute martyrdom. His rival, the archbishop of York, declared that he had perished, like Pharaoh, in his pride. One of the monks of Canterbury was heard to say '^ that he was deservedly slain for his obstinacy, and was not to be esteemed a martyr. Others said,^ he wished to be king, and more than king. Others again declared that there was no sign of martyrdom in him ; that he was ' full of pride, ^ See Robertson, Life of Bechet-, Dean Stanley, Mtmorials of Can- terbury. » Grim, p. 80. s y^ ^^^„^ La7nheth, Giles, ii. 129. DEATH OF BECKET. 203 elation, and ambition. He had shown himself cruel and terrible to others, as those well knew who had to deal with him. On such a foundation martyrdom could not stand.' To us there does not seem one of the principles in- volved which touches even indirectly what we regard as essential to rehgion, or belonging to the Gospel of Christ. Yet if we turn for example to the history of the contemporary Gervase of Canterbury, these are the titles which strike our eye on glancing down the page — ' the man of God ' — ' this confessor of Christ ' — ' this holy man ' — ' this champion of Christ.' What was there which could have so wrought not only on the monastic mind, but also on so large a part of the people, as to confuse a struggle for clerical immunities and indepen- dence with the cause of Christ Himself? The reasons were partly such as are inherent in the corrupt Chris- tianity which has centred itself in Eome ; and partly arose out of the impulses which urged the classes on whom the oppressive feudal yoke pressed so hardly to regard the power of the Church as their only refuge. Among these reasons the foremost place must be given to the latter influence. Wlien the Enghsh people closed their multitudes round Becket in his hour of peril at Northampton, or welcomed him on his last approach to London, it was not the saint that aroused their sym- pathy. They fancied they saw in him the vindicator of Hberty for themselves as well as the Church. He was the man who had resisted the dictation of the tyranny which crushed them. They beheld the compact phalanx of king and nobles on the one side. The only power be- sides was the mighty organisation of the Church which could make even the mail-clad monarch quail. If liberty w^as yet possible for any but king or noble, it seemed to 204 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. the downtrodden that under the shadow of the Church alone it might be found. And so Becket became po- pular hero, and mighty saint. Yet had he ' wrought no deliverance on the earth ; ' he had fought for no truth, vindicated no principle of freedom, upheld no doctrine of faith or of intellect. He had maintained the ^ liberties of holy Church,' that is clerical power and immunities, and therefore such an ao^e could regard him as dying for Christ, and could elevate him into a foremost place in the saintly hierarchy. Therefore, also, even now, those to whom clerical j)ower seems of the essence of the liberty of the Church are drawn by an attraction of sympathy to this most ambiguous martyr. Even after this crime it was not the pohcy of the pope to break with Henry. Becket was canonised ; the stories of miracles wrought at his tomb were prodigious, almost beyond experience of human credulity when approached on its most superstitious side. Henry made concessions,^ the amount of which is variously stated, on the disputed points of the Clarendon Constitutions. To crown all, he performed penance in person with full monastic rigour at Becket's tomb. He passed bare- footed, with hair shirt and rough garments, through Canterbury. He lay prostrate on the floor, and kissed the stones which had been embrued with the arch- bishop's blood. He kissed the tomb, he wept, he prayed. He promised, among other gifts and conces- sions, forty marks a year in good wax to illuminate the tomb. He bared his back ; each bishop and abbot first, and then each of the eighty monks, administered the discipline. Five strokes each prelate inflicted, and three each monk. Witii Avhat vigour they took advantage of * Stubbs (i. 475) says lie renounced them. PENANCE OF HENRY II. 205 the opportunity to clear off old scores on the back of such a monarch is not to be discerned in the ancient narrative. Yet, if the number of the clergy be cor- rectly given, the king must have received nearly 300 stripes, a considerable chastisement, however each fla- gellant may have shrunk from prominence in the weight of the blows administered. There is ground, in fact, to think that the king was considerably exhausted by these unwonted exercises, which probably satisfied his own superstitious fears^ as well as the claims which the Church pressed upon him. But the result to the fame of St. Thomas was prodi- gious. In great political extremity the king had made his submission, and returned exhausted and fever- stricken to London. Four days had hardly passed when news arrived that the king of Scotland was his prisoner, and the French fleet which threatened invasion was re- pelled. Henry seems to have beheved, and the age believed, that the appeased martyr had wrought this wonder. Here was a prince who had power with God ! Men worship power, though they may be poor judges of holiness. Thenceforward the pilgrimage to Canterbury was one of the chief in Europe, and the worship of St. Thomas spread on every side. The vanquished king of Scotland recognised the hand which had smitten him, and returning to his land founded a great abbey to his memory. Stout English Protestants who attend their parish church of St. Thomas, fully believing the name to be that of the Apostle, might be scandahsed to learn that after all it was that of St. Thomas of Canterbury. The Eoman writers allege that Henry VHI. sum- moned the dead archbishop to trial on the charge of treason, and on his failure to appear caused him to be judged guilty, and his bones to be burned in public. 206 HTSTOEY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND* The story is probably false ^ in fact, but it is true ill sentiment. The turbulent prelate has been arraigned before the bar of public opinion, and outside the circle which still struggles for the supremacy of Canon law his cause is lost. Justice may be done to his courage and many high qualities. It may be recognised that he firmly believed in the justice of the claims which he maintained to the death. But those claims ran counter to the ancient rights of king and people, and though his blood for a time seemed to men to seal and to sanc- tify them, they have long ceased to have power in England. We may have our strong opinion about the mode of proceeding of Henry YIII. and his commis- sioners. Our antiquarian tastes may regret many things that were done. But when we read of the six and twenty carts waiting at the door, in 1538, to bear away the rich store of gold and of jewels, and manifold trea- sures which had accumulated at the shrine of St. Thomas in the four centuries, the conscience must be satisfied that in the moin right was done, even if it was done coarsely. And if, as may be hoped and as seems likely, they buried the poor remains of the murdered archbishop quietly and decently where they might await the Great Judgment, even so it was needful to do with that which had been the cause and object of sinful superstition. In less than six months after the penance of Henry II. the choir of Canterbury Cathedral was once more destroyed by fire. The pointed arches, clustered columns, and fohated capitals of the east end Avitness to this day the change of style when the heavy Norman work and circular arches of Lanfranc and Anselm gave place to the incoming 'Early English' order of archi- ^ See Fronde, chap. xv. BISHOPRIC OF BATH AND WELLS. 207 tectiire, whose more matured elegance is traced in the symmetry of Sahsbury Cathedral, or the majesty of the nave of Westminster Abbey, both erected in the next century. During the remainder of the twelfth century no event of conspicuous importance illustrates the history of the Church of England. We may, therefore, note one or two matters of less stirring nature which have left traces to our own time. Baldwin, archbishop of Canterbury from 1185 to 1190, acquired the manor of Lambeth by exchange from the bishop of Eochester. From that day to this it has been the principal seat of the archbishops of Canterbury. The existing buildings of the palace range over many centuries. The heavy mass of the gateway is said to have been the work of Cardinal Morton not long before the Eeformation. The main part of the residence is due to the present century, while some portions of the pile reach back, perhaps, to the earliest date of its attachment to the see of Canterbury. Another matter of some little interest arises out of the title of one of the western bishops. Wells had been the seat of an ancient Saxon bishopric. About the time when the Normans changed the seat of so many bishoprics after the Conquest, John de Yillula, bishop of this diocese, removed to Bath, and assumed his title from that city in the days of Rufus. Hence arose violent dissensions between the monks of Bath and the canons of Wells. These were at length composed in the time of Stephen, when Robert, third bishop of Bath, ^ obtained a decree from Rome that the episcopal see should remain in botli cliurches, but that the name of Bath should have precedence. When tlie monasteries were destroyed in the time of Henry VIII., the great * Anglia Sacra, i, 555. 208 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. abbey church of Bath, whose rebuilding was scarcely finished, survived, but it lost its endowments. It was not refounded with Dean and Chapter in Cathedral dignity, but the episcopal title remains as it was settled seven centuries ago. The close of the twelfth century is the militant era of Canterbury. Archbishop 'Baldwin, accompanied by Hubert Walter, bishop of Salisbury, joiiied the Crusade, and in full armour led his men-at-arms under the banner of St. Thomas against the Saracens. He is said to have died of grief at the discomfiture of the Christian arms, and the dissolute maimers of the Christian host. He was laid in a Syrian grave, one of the very few arch- bishops of Canterbury who sleep in a foreign land. The bishop of Salisbury distinguished himself alike as soldier and statesman, in the camp and field, and was sent by Eichard as his representative to Saladin, in which capacity he entered Jerusalem, which the lion- hearted king refused to visit, if he might not do so as conqueror. After the failure of the Crusade, the bishop of Sahsbury returned to England, and was recommended by King Eichard to the Chapter of Canterbury to fill the vacant see. Archbishop Hubert Walter never forgot his Eastern training, and whether at the head of a military force, or at the council board, he was the leading mail in England during the remainder of the reign of Eichard and the early portion of that of John. His modern biographer ^ thus suins up his fuiictions : ' He was primate, legate, chief justiciary, chancellor, and king's vicegerent ; an accumulatioii of offices which never centred in any other individual.' When this martial prelate Was laid in his Canterbury 1 Hook, Archbishops of Cantcrhunj, ii. 656. CBUSADING ARCHBISHOPS. 209 tomb the fulness of the time of papal domination had come. England learned what the lowest degradation might be for a nation which had admitted into its bosom a foreign law and the representatives of that worst of usurpations, as it is also the most blasphemous —the usurpation of one who calls himself the vicegerent of God. 210 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND, CHAPTER YIII. THE CULMINATIONS" OF THE PAPAL POWER. Kings of England. John .... 1199—1216 j Henry III. . . 1216—1272 The thirteenth century is one of great interest to the historical student. It rises to view amidst the misery and degradation of the reign of John (1199 — 1216). It is base and ignoble during the prolonged incapacity of Henry III. (1216—1272). It closes in. the military and civil glories of the greatest of the Plantagenets, Edward I. (1272—1307). Yet in the midst of pro- found corruption the plant of early English liberty struck its deepest root. The Magna Charta was forced upon the tyrant John, and acknowledged by his weak successor. The excesses of papal power, which must yet be traced, led to its rapid decay. The same century which saw England under the feet of Innocent closed under a monarch who was already able, with the full consent of his people, to raise a barrier of law against some at least of the Eoman usurpations. Innocent III. ascended the papal throne in 1198, and died in the same year with John of England (1216). Whatever claims may have been formulated by other popes, whatever attribute of power may have been asserted for them by any canon law, this pope succeeded in enforcing all. If he were not a judge in feudal matters, said he, yet he was a judge where sin was committed ARCHBISHOP STEPHEN LANGTON. 211 and where public scandal might arise. The modern politician may smile, and politely ignore the feeble iteration of the maxim by Innocent's successor ; but this pope demanded an authoritative voice by virtue of this comprehensive dictum in whatever matter of state policy he chose to interfere. For in which of these may not sin be detected or scandal be feared ? The Kings ^ of Castile and Portugal were directed to limit their military enter- prises. The King of Arragon was enjoined to improve the currency of his realm. The King of France, after a sharp struggle, was compelled to submit in the matter of a matrimonial offence. A usurper of Norway was excom- municated. The Kings of Hungary and of Leon were co- erced. This was the pontiff with whom John of England entered into the unequal struggle which must now en- gage attention. The first step in the history may well be the a23pointment of an illustrious Englishman, Stephen Langton, to the see of Canterbury. He had displayed varied erudition at the University of Paris, and, having been invited to Eome by Innocent, was raised to the dignity of a cardinal. The great crusading Archbishop of Canterbury, Hubert Walter, died in 1205, and the succession led to serious disputes, which Innocent ter- minated in a characteristic manner by nominating and consecrating to the vacant dignity, in 1207, his friend Cardinal Langton. This was a measure unprecedented as yet in the English Church. It set aside the royal prerogative as well as all established law and usage, and it was met by John mth the utmost defiance. The pope^ threatened to place England under an interdict, which, after various negotiations, was proclaimed March 23, 1208. According to the mediasval idea of an inter- dict all public religious ceremonies were to cease, and 1 Hallam, Mid. Ar/os, c\\. vii. - R. of AVendover, in ami. 1207, p 2 212 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. in a great measure this was actually the case. But a portion of the clergy disobeyed the papal prohibition, and the king sequestrated^ the property of those who conformed to it. John, however, was seriously alarmed, and negotiations were re-opened with the papal court, but without practical result In this position of afiairs the pope used the last weapon in his armoury. He pronounced the King of England contumacious and de- posed, and called on the nations of Europe to take up a crusade'^ against the excommunicated sovereign. Philip Aujyustus of France was to be the leader of the inva- sion ; and in a council at Soissons, April 8, 1213, it was agreed that the exploit of William the Conqueror should be repeated. At this crisis John made his submission, and delivered to Pandulph,the pope's envoy, his charter of ho- mage to the papal see. The blasphemous as well as lying and shameful words of John's submission run thus :^ — ' We, impelled by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, and not by force or from fear of the interdict, but of our own free will and consent, and by the general advice of our barons, assign and grant to God, and His holy apostles Peter and Paul, and to the holy Church of Eome our mother, and to our lord Pope Innocent and his successors, the whole kingdom of England and the Avhole kingdom of Ireland, with all their rights and appurtenances . . . and henceforth we retain and hold those countries from him and the Church of Eome as vicegerent . . . And we will and determine that the Church of Eome shall, besides the Peter's pence, receive annually a thousand marks sterling money, for all ser- vice and custom we owe them.' Nearly seven centuries have passed, yet even now an Enghshman cannot read this most base surrender 1 R. of Wendover, 'in mm. 1208. ^ i^i^.^ 1212. » Ibid., 1212. EEMOVAL OF THE INTERDICT. 213 without shame. But pope and king knew each otlier, and understood the pact. The crusade was dissolved by the pope, and the king consented to receive Langton as archbishop. In July 1213, five years after his con- secration, that prelate^ landed at Dover, and the for- malities of absolving the king and removing the inter- dict were in due time performed. It might be expected, under these circumstances, that Archbishop Langton might play the part of a mere papal partisan. It is at least an unexpected result that in political affairs he should prove himself a patriot who had no small share in laying anew the foundations of English liberty, though pope and king were arrayed against him. From the moment of his landing the new arch- bishop had shown an unlooked-for spirit of indepen- dence. Without waiting for the removal of the inter- dict he had received the king, and celebrated high mass in the Cathedral of Winchester. In the tedious nego- tiations for withdrawing the interdict, which chiefiy related to the heavy pecuniary demands made by the pope on the Churcli and kingdom of England, the arch- bishop sided with tlie oppressed clergy. His personal dignity, and that of the whole episcopacy, was violated by the extortion and arrogance of the papal legate whc was conducting the negotiations. This functionary ^ kept a stately court, and travelled with a great retinue, at the expense of the Enghsh Church. He assumed power to degrade, to suspend, to promote the clergy at his will. The archbishop placed himself at the head of the indignant and outraged prelates, and an appeal was made to Eome itself against tliese disastrous proceed- ings. But Pandulph was there, on the part of the legate,^ to vouch that Jolm was of all kings ' most » R. of Wendover, in ami. 1213. ^ Ibid. ^ ii,i^i^ ^OU. 214 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. liumble and moderate,' and that Langton, from mere avarice, was resisting the pious king. And so at last the humihating terms were settled, large payments were made to Eome, and more were promised. The detested John stood before his people as the beloved son of the pope, the soldier of the cross, inviolable in person, and secure against European invaders, at hberty to work out his own tyrannical will. It was well that men should thus be gradually dis- abused of their error in deeming the elevation of the papal power to be any remedy against the oppression which weighed upon them at home. The very bitter- ness of the cup which the pope forced to their hps might' well instil a doubt as to the sweetness of the fountain which had been so fondly credited and blindly sought. Archbishop Langton may now be seen allying him- self with the leading barons of England in searching for some footing of legality amidst this great morass of usurpation. This they found in certain charters ^ of Henry I. and Henry H., which at least recognised some considerable portion of the ancient Saxon liberties, and restrained some of the excesses of feudal power. On this basis the barons of England united in a confe- deracy, of which Archbishop Langton and Wilham Earl of Pembroke were the leading spirits, to force upon the king the acceptance of a charter which should guarantee the liberties of the English people. June 15, 1215, is a landmark in English history. On that day the king sullenly yielded to the dictation of the confederate nobles, and affixed his seal to Magna Charta. But there was still a year of misery for the country. Jolm collected bands of mercenaries ^ Hallam, Mid. Agos,c\i. \\i\. 2; R. of Wendover, in ann. 1214. MAGNA CHARTA. 215 from the Continent, who committed fearful devasta- tions. The great Charter itself was received with indigna- tion at Eome, and annulled by papal bulls. John, said these documents, was a subject and tributary of the sovereign pontiff; he had sworn fealty to the pope ; he had taken the cross — all confederacies against him were forbidden under pain of excommunication — therefore this confederacy was an audacious wickedness. ' We altogether reprobate and condemn the Charter,' — 'We altogether quash the Charter and pronounce it void.' The archbishop, who had gone to Eome to attempt a juster settlement, was suspended from his office, and excommunication ^ was proclaimed against all ' the dis- turbers of the king and kingdom of England.' This is one of those passages in the shameful history of the papacy which must ever tax the utmost hardi- hood of its supporters, or be more readily dealt with by dexterous silence. Many other tyrants have found some one who has attempted to vindicate their memory. John has found none. Yet Innocent's ' well-beloved son in Christ, John, the illustrious king of England,' re- ceived the papal blessing while his mercenaries were spreading lust and rapine over the country. ' The whole surface of the earth,' says the contemporary chronicler,' ^ was covered with these limbs of the devil, like locusts, who assembled from remote regions to blot out everything from the face of the land : they ransacked towns, houses, cemeteries, churches, sparing neither women nor children.' Meanwhile the patriot archbishop was detained in Eoman exile, and the cause of Enghsh hberty pronounced accursed. But that cause has lived under the special protection * R. of Wendover, in mm. 1215. ^ R. of Wendoyer. 216 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. of a Providence whicli foreknew the work to which the nation was called. And in the judgment of our chief constitutional authorities the great Charter ^ is ' the keystone of English liberty '—and ' if every subsequent law were swept away, there would still remain the bold features which distinguish a free from a despotic mo- narchy.' Or, as Blackstone expresses it, ' it protected every individual of the nation in the free enjoyment of his life, his hberty, and his property, unless declared to be forfeited by the judgment of his peers, or the law of the land.' Death found John at last at Newark on one of his expeditions, after terrible ravages in the eastern coun- ties. His last words were : ' To God and St. Wulfstan I commend my soul.' This sufficed to procure him ho- nourable sepulture in Worcester Cathedral, where he stilllies in kingly state, though the ashes of many of England's great ones have been scattered to the winds. The chronicler has recorded his crimes. His ideas of the justice of the Almighty, and the atonement whicli might avail for sinful man, may be given in these in- structive words : 'It is confidently to be hoped that some good works, which he performed in this life, may plead in his favour at the tribunal of Jesus Christ ; for he founded a monastery of the Cistercian order at BeauHeu, and when dying gave to the monastery of Croxton land worth ten pounds.' The shattered arches of Beaulieu stand now among the flowers of a garden by the margin of Southampton "Water. It can be no mere Puritan reaction, it must be an emotion of the simplest justice, which gazes on their desolation with satisfaction mingled with the natural regret over faded beauty. The base tyrant who bid ^ Hallam, ch. viii. 2. PAPAL EXACTIONS. 1^17 those graceful arches to rise must meet the Eternal Justice. It is not written in the Book — it is not written in the conscience of man — that the deft w^ork of the mason, the rich acres of endowment, shall atone for crime, thouo^h there a thousand monks should chant their service for ever. The pope and ' his well-beloved son, John,' died in the year 1216, but Archbishop Langton was not free to return until May 1218, when he procured the confirma- tion of the great Charter in the name of the young king Henry, and retired from political struggles. The inglorious reign of Henry III. occupies a large part of the remaining portion of the thirteenth century. In ecclesiastical affairs England remained during this period very much as John had left it. Subjected to the intrusion of foreign ecclesiastics and drained of money by papal exactions, it was to learn what the supremacy of the pope really meant. HoAv England suffered and was already learning to resist in those days may best be inferred, not from the suspected narrative of some modern Protestant, but from the indignant pen of Matthew Paris, monk of St. Albans, the contemporary chronicler. The great papal extortioner, as the reign of Henry III. advanced, was an emissary named Martin, of whom what the clergy and people thought in 1245 may be judged from the nar- rative of the monk. ' The oft-mentioned Master Martin, tlie pope's clerk, was most watchfully and unceasingly busying himself in collecting revenues in any way he pleased for the use of the pope, and in bestowing them on the pope's relations. But of his daring and injurious rapacity I think it more honourable and safer, out of respect to the holy Eoman Church, to be silent than to offend the ears of my audience, and to disturb the mind 218 HISTORY OF THE CHUECH OF ENGLAND. of Christians by the relation of such things.' Never- theless the dealings of Master Martin and his many ex- tortions are noted often and clearly enough in the pages of the patriotic monk, who gives a graphic account of the final exit of the extortioner from the kingdom, when at last even Henry III. was aroused by the universal indignation. Fitz Warren was commissioned by the irri- tated nobles and commons to face the enemy. Entering his lodgings in the Temple, and ' eyeing the clerk with a scowling brow, he addressed him thus : Depart and leave- England immediately.' Dreadful threats and oaths followed this abrupt command. Master Martin ' immediately went, breathless with alarm, to the king,' to know how matters stood. The king declared that he had found difficulty in restraining his barons from tear- ing him limb from limb, and added, on his own part, some most plain and unroyal curses. Master Martin could but ask for a safe-conduct out of the realm. En- trusted to the charge of one Eobert Norris, the papal delegate trembles when any passenger appears on the road, and in some harmless woodcutters discerns those who are lying in wait for his blood. Master Martin promises any benefice or promotion Norris may desire for any relative, if he will but protect him. Norris plays on his fears, and professing that he has with dif- ficulty restrained the woodmen, says to his trembling charge : ' Now let us walk stealthily and cautiously, lest anything worse happen to you ; but, when you set sail, if you are a wise man you will never return.' So Master Martin rejoiced when he had put the sea between himself and the scene of his plunder, but ' he left his foul traces behind him,' for a commissioner was ap- pointed to exercise his powers. When Master Martin came to the pope and told his griefs, ' his holiness ' (it is PAPAL EXACTIONS. 219 the monk who speaks) ' ground his teeth and broke into a violent rage/ Eecalhng other acts of opposition from minor princes, ' he said in a voice smothered with vehe- ment rage, and with a scowhng brow, and with wrinkled nostrils : " It is expedient for us to settle matters with your king, in order to crush these petty princes who are kicking against us ; for when the dragon is crushed or pacified, the little serpents will be easily trodden under foot." ' The pope was to hear more of Master Martin, for Enghsh deputies were commissioned to present to him a letter in which the papal encroach- ments and the misdoings of that official were complained of Nothing could be more dutiful than the tone of that letter, nevertheless it declared that the people of England ' could not endure with patience these said oppressions, detestable alike to God and man ; and by God's grace they would no longer endure them.' How- ever, no redress was obtained, and the Enghsh deputies ' departed in great anger, swearing with a terrible oath that they would never satisfy the ever detestable avarice of the Eomans by paying the tribute, neither would they allow it to be paid.' The retort of the pope was in fact a mandate to the bishops of England to affix their ' seals to that detestable Charter of the tribute which King John of unhappy memory had made.' This they did, Fulk, Bishop of London, having the mo- dicum of praise from the patriotic monk that he was the last to seal. Tliat ignominious tribute was eating into the heart of the nation, and even King Henry, when he heard of this renewed submission of liis bishops, ' swore that he would never, as long as he drew the breath of life, pay tribute to the Eoman Court.' It was but tlie momentary passion of a weak nature. In the following year, 1246, renewed efforts were 220 HISTORY OP THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. made in letters from the king, the abbots, and the nobles and people of England, to obtain redress. The most interesting of these is one to which the name of the famous Simon de Montfort, with others, is affixed : ' Eeverend father, " chariot of Israel, and its charioteer," we confidently resort to the asylum of your affection ... to ajDply a salutary remedy to the burdens, injuries, and oppressions on the kingdom of England and our lord the king . . since it will be necessary for us, unless the king and kingdom are soon released from the oppres- sions, to oppose ourselves as a wall for the house of the Lord, and for the liberty of the kingdom. . . And your holiness may rest assured that, unless the aforesaid mat- ters are speedily reformed by you, there will be fear that such peril may impend over the Eoman Church, as well as our lord the king, that it will not be easy to apply a remedy to the same ; which God forbid.' These letters, breathing in some measure the Eng- lish spirit, will suffice to illustrate the rising tempest ; but they were no more than incidents in the long struggle against papal exactions, the end of which was yet far off. The mission of two legates a latere from the papal court during this reign requires notice, and the more because they tended yet further to produce among the clergy of England that anti-papal jealousy which, though varying in its heat, was never extinct. This spirit was one among many other causes which tended to make their opposition less determined when the Eighth Henry finally cast off the papal jurisdiction. Henry HI., led by his foreign advisers, unable to obtain a subsidy from his clergy, applied to the pope for the means to coerce them. The pope selected Otho ' the White,' a cardinal of some eminence, to visit England SYNOD OF OTHO. 221 on this errand. The king met him on his landing/ and ' bowed till his chin almost touched his knee.' Gifts were poured upon the legate, and the churches and abbeys where he passed were half-ruined by the expen- diture. At last came the dreary November day, a Lon- don November, when the great synod was gathered in St. Paul's. Astrologers had prognosticated evil, and tempests raged over the city for fifteen days. The Enghsh chmate, at its very worst, put on its most sullen aspect as the cardinal passed on, amid the murmurings of the people. On a platform in the nave the legate sat enthroned, the two archbishops on either hand. The cardinal 'hfted up his voice like a trumpet,' and addressed the synod from Eevelation iv. 6 : ' In the midst of the throne and round about it were four beasts.' These were the bishops ever vigilant. Then the papal canons were proclaimed. Plurahties, before the Eeformation, and long afterwards, were the great bane of the Church of England. An honest attempt on the part of the pope to reform this abuse would have been a praiseworthy use of his power. But that power was only exercised to heap preferments on his friends, or to extort payment for the hcense to hold such plurahties. It was this which the indignant prelates now heard in the thirteenth of these canons : plurahties should not be held without dispensation from the pope. What this meant the bishops knew well. It meant heavy fees to the papal treasury ; or, yet worse, it meant forced surrender of rich preferments, which would pass for the most part into the hands of foreigners. If any sentiment of in- dependence, if any feehng of patriotism remained whicli could be kindled into animation, such fears mio-ht well fan the flame. Walter de Cantilupe, Bishop of Wor- » M. Pari* ann. 1237. 222 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. cester, rose to protest. He was of noble birth, and, like his kinsman of Hereford, who attained the honour of sanctity and great veneration in the Welsh Marches, was devout and even ascetic. He took off his mitre and said that ' many of the prelates of England were men of high birth. They had been wont, by holding- many benefices, to maintain their dignity, to show generous hospitality, and to be prodigal in alms-deeds. Some were old ; they would not consent to be robbed of their income, and reduced to ignominious poverty. Some were young and bold, and could endure a hard struggle before they would surrender their rights. For myself, before I was a bishop, I made a firm resolution not to be so plundered, I adhere to my resolution. Let the pope reconsider this, and be more wisely counselled.' The excitement was so great that the legate was over- awed and withdrew the canon. If we are to understand that the ofiences forbidden by some other canons of this council were really prevalent in England, they may well raise some reflection. Churches must not remain un- consecrated. Idiots, ilHterates, and other incapable persons, were not to be ordained. Livings might not be held by deacons, nor might they be seized or held by force. The clergy should not dress unbecomingly, like laymen, or even in mihtary attire. The clergy to a considerable extent lived with women ' in matrimony or otherwise.' Other misdemeanours were specified. The legacy of Otho the White bore little fruit, except that by his rapacity, extortion, and ostentation, the clergy and people of England were yet more widely aUenated from the papacy. During this time Edmund Eich was Archbishop of Canterbury (1234-1240). He had attempted in vain, even at the cost of a journey to Kome, to maintain the violated dignity of his see. ST. EDMUND OF PONTIGNY. 223 The legate, in deacon's orders only, had been supported by the king against the primate, and Edmund now resigned his see. He retired to the French abbey of Pontigny, which had sheltered his predecessors, Thomas- ^-Becket and Stephen Langton, and there ' sank into a saint,' as Dean Milman so happily words it. He speedily died, worn out by austerities which his enfeebled frame was little able to bear. The rumour of miracles at his tomb at Pontigny soon spread abroad, and the pope, at first averse, yielded the honours of canonisation to the archbishop, thenceforward the object of pilgrimage, as St. Edmund of Pontigny, until the French Ee volution wrecked his shrine. To St. Edmund succeeded one of the most anoma- lous primates who have ever sat in the marble chair of Canterbury. Boniface of the princely family of Savoy, more a soldier than a priest, was thrust on the English Church, which he oppressed for many years, by the united influence of Queen Eleanor and the pope. One of the maddest scenes on record in English ecclesiastical history is the visitation of the Priory of St. Bartholo- mew, now the illustrious hospital in Smithfield. Con- scious of the feeling against him the primate came with armour under his vestments, and with armed retinue. The sub-prior protested against the archbishop's right as visitor, an office which pertained to the Bishop of London. The scene can only be further described in the language of the chronicler of St. Alban's.^ ' The archbishop burst into a fit of anger, and, rushing on the sub-prior, impiously inflicted a blow with his fist on this holy priest, and cruelly repeated his blows many times on his aged breast, venerable face, and hoary head, exclaiming, " Thus will I deal with you English ^ M. Paris, in aim. 1260. 224 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. traitors ; " then with unmentionable oaths he called for a sword. The rich vestment of the sub-prior was torn and trampled under foot, and its jewelled clasp was lost. The archbishop, unsatiated, crushed the sub-prior against the woodwork of the stalls. Meanwhile the followers of Boniface struck, wounded, and trampled upon the trembling canons. Bruised and bleeding the canons brought their complaint to the Bishop of London, their official visitor. " The king is at Westminster, go to him," rephed the bishop. Four of the canons, all who could move, went to the king with their torn gar- ments and bruised persons. The sub-prior never re- covered from the effect of the blows of his most reverend assailant. The king refused even to see the canons, but the people rose in tumult, and pursued the primate with loud cries of anger to his house at Lam- beth,' But no redress could be had, and therefore ' with pitiable complaints they intrusted their cause to St. Bartholomew, whom they served continually night and day, and prayed that God, the Lord of vengeance, as man either could not or would not, would deign to punish such great offences.' It may be granted that an additional drop of gaii was put into the pen of a St. Alban's writer, by the fact that Boniface proceeded to violate the privileges of that great abbey ; but after all allowances on this score the story is horribly instructive. During these turbulent scenes Fulk Basset, a mem- ber of one of the most noble of the Norman families, held the bishopric of London 1244-1259. A renewed papal demand for a large subsidy to be levied on every benefice in England drew forth from him the indignant reply,^ ' Before I submit the Church to such slavery I ^ M. Paris, ann, 1265. SIMON DE MONTFORT. 225 will lay my head on the block.' The king, with his wonted unkingliness, threatened him with the papal censure. ' The pope and the king,' replied the baron, ' may illegally combine to take away my bishopric : they may strip me of my mitre, I shall still wear my helmet.' Such strife as this may render very intelhgible the combination of whatever was noble or patriotic in Church or State under the leadership of Simon de Montfort against the foreign tyranny to which the un- worthy Henry lent himself. Civil history must tell the career of that illustrious warrior and statesman who was one of the chief founders of English freedom. But it is for us to say that again the papal wrath was kindled against the patriots of England. Cardinal Ottoboni Avas sent with full powers against the con- federate barons and prelates. The clergy who sup- ported the barons were to be expelled,^ and papal followers thrust into their places ; the chief nobles and bishops were to be excommunicated. There was even to be a crusade against rebellious England. ' Nothing could be done unless that turbulent man of sin (de Montfort) and all his race were plucked out of the realm.' But the battle of Evesham was foufyht, and Simon fell. The popular love canonized him, as it did many a name far less worthy in the Middle Ages. The pope might curse but the people blessed. He was compared in song to the martyred Becket. He died, ' the flower of soldierhood,' ' the protector of the Eng- lish nation.' 'Pray for us, blessed Simon,' said the popular invocation, ' that we may be worthy of the promises of Christ.' The tide was speedily turned by the accession of the greatest of EngHsh kings, 1 M. Paris, ann. 1267. Q 226 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. Edward I., who, though Snnon's opponent, had been formed by the hard discipHne of those contests to know his countrymen and to understand what power lay in Enghsh patriotism ; else it might almost have been that a profusion ^ of miracles at Simon's tomb and popular frenzy might have forced the canonisation of de Mont- fort from some reluctant pope. The metrical chronicle known by the name of Eobert of Gloucester indicates plainly that, in spite of papal denunciation, marks even of monastic sanctity were beheved to have been found on the person of this famous warrior : — But among all the rest, the most pitiful thing was this, That Sir Simon, the old man, they dismembered so, For Sir William Maltravers, thanks have he none. Cut off his feet and hands, and his limbs many a one ; And his head smote they off and to Wigemore it sent. To dame Maud de Mortimer, who most sorely abused it ; And although they hacked him limb from limb, he bled not, as was said, And the hard hair-cloth was the garment next his body : Such was the mm^der of Evesham, for battle it was none, And therewith Jesu Christ was very ill pleased. As He showed by tokens terrible and true ; For as it to Himself befel, when He died on the cross, There was a great darkness throughout all the world. The legate Ottoboni entered England at this crisis, and found it for the moment under his feet. At the Christmas ^ festival the legate sat above the king and was served before him amid indignant murmurs, some of those strange echoes which in the course of ages have resounded through that ancient Westminster hall. In the waning years of that king, in 1268, Cardinal Ottoboni held another synod ^ in St. Paul's, worthy of 1 M. Paris, ami. 1265. ^ Milman, Rishan^er, p. 59. ' Wilkins, Concilia^ BISHOP GROSTETE. 227 notice inasmuch as the canons then enacted were, until the Eeformation, the chief code of ecclesiastical law in England. To a great extent they were a re-enactment of the constitutions of the s^aiod held a few years before under Cardinal Otho, and are open to much the same remarks. They are commonly referred to as the Laws or Constitutions of Ottoboni. There were churchmen of some repute in England during the dreary reign of Henry HI. beside those already mentioned. The name most prominent in ec- clesiastical history is that of Robert Grostete, or Great- head, Bishop of Lincoln. As a theologian he was ad- dicted to the extreme form of papal theology and law as it then prevailed. As a man and an administrator he was pure in morals and aim beyond his contemporaries. He was a friend of the famous Roger Bacon, and like him a member of a mendicant order. His learning and integrity were of European fame. Appointed to the great see of Lincoln, he attempted not only to deal with the grosser forms of clerical and monastic vice and corruption which he found prevailing there, but he was brought face to face with tlie abuses of patronage which king and pope alike committed. It was thus that Grostete, full of the most imphcit reverence for the papal office as magnified by the Canon Law, found himself in unexpected collision with Inno- cent IV., the pope. One of the extravagant claims, which already was bearing the papal power heavily downwards, and of which more will be heard in another reign, was the assertion of the pope's riglit to nominate whom he would to benefices not yet vacant. Thus foreigners who could not speak the EngHsh tongue, and were frequently non-resident, held a large proportion of the best endowments in England. Q 2 228 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. Omitting other details of the determined resistance which Grostete opposed to this gross perversion of right, it may suffice to give one instance. The bishop received a mandate from Eome directing him to confer the first canonry which should be vacant in Lincoln Cathe- dral on a youthful nephew of the pope, Frederick of Louvain. Innocent had met with previous opposition in matters of this kind from the constant bishop. Now he threatened excommunication against anyone who should resist his mandate. But Grostete remained firm. His letter to the pope has been quoted by many historians. ' I ^ devoutly and reverently obey the apostohc mandates with filial affection. But I oppose those things which are contrary to apostolic decrees. For these must be the doctrines of the Apostles, and our Lord Jesus Christ himself, of whom the pope represents the type and per- son. For our Lord Jesus Christ himself says, " He that is not with me is against me," and against him the sanc- tity of the Apostolic See is not and cannot be. The tenor of the aforesaid letter (of the pope) is not conso- nant with apostolic sanctity, but utterly dissonant and discordant thereunto. It is the sin of Anti-Christ to de- stroy souls by defrauding them of the office and ministry of their pastors. The most lioly Apostolic See, to which all power has been given for edification, not for destruc- tion, cannot incline to or enjoin so hateful and pernicious a sin. No faithful subject of that see can obey such mandates or precepts. Therefore, my reverend lord, by virtue of the obedience and fidelity due to the most holy Apostolic See, and out of regard for my union with it in the body of Christ, in filial affection and obedience, I refuse to obey, I oppose and resist the orders in the aforesaid letters, because they most evidently tend to an 1 M. Paris, in ann. 1253, BISHOP GROSTETE. 229 abominable sin against Christ, and to the destruction of man. They are opposed to the sanctity of the Apostolic See, and are contrary to the Cathohc faith.' It may be imagined with what wrath such a reply was received. ' Who is this old dotard, ' cried the pope, 'who is audacious enough to judge our acts? By St. Peter and St. Paul, if we were not restrained by our generosity, we would make him a fable, an astonish- ment, an example, a warning to the world. Is not the King of England our vassal, our slave ? Would he not at a sign from us throw this bishop into prison, and reduce him to the lowest disgrace ? ' But wiser counsels prevailed. The cardinals urged upon him that France and England knew the learning, the devout and pure life, of this eminent prelate. The scandals of patronage were already becoming perilous, and the pope relaxed his pretensions. Grostete died in 1253. It was beheved in that age that Innocent had resolved on the disinterment and dishonour of his remains, and that the great prelate himself appeared to him in vision denouncing his vices, and threatening him with that miserable death which speedily followed. It has been natural that Grostete should be promi- nently noticed by Protestant writers. Though he doubted no Eoman doctrine, yet he was a man who resisted wrong where he saw it. When after years perceived, what he discerned not, that it was not merely an abuse of a sacred power which pressed upon men, as Grostete deemed, but that the power itself was a falsehood and a wrong — tlien, and not till then, did reformation come. Hugh of Lincoln, his predecessor, Edmund of Canterbury, liis contemporary, might be canonized for their ascetic renown ; but tlie learned, devout, and just Eobert Grostete, of Lincoln, was fol- 230 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. lowed by no such honours as these. Sorely troubled was this just man by the abuses which he could not remedy. In his last illness he discussed this perplexity with some of the clergy who were in attendance. The pope seemed to him to be acting the part of Antichrist by his unholy traffic in livings, thus trifling with men's souls. Other popes, his predecessors, had granted privileges and rights of preferment, which this pope had swept away by his letters of provisions. The pope defended his practice by saying, ' Equals cannot bind each other. I am equal to my predecessors. They cannot bind me.' It was a sore puzzle to the dying prelate. He solved it thus : ' Those still in the perils of the world, and those safe in harbour, are not equal. A departed pontiff is greater than a living one. Several apostolic pontiffs have confirmed the privileges now endangered. Are not the many who have been saved by divine grace more than the solitary one who is still in danger ? ' Thus helplessly struggled devout and pure minds in those days, entangled in the meshes of that fatal theory of papal supremacy, unable ' to de- liver their souls, and say, " Is there not a lie in my right hand ? " ' ' Thus,^ therefore, departed from the exile of this world, which he had never loved, the holy Eobert, Bishop of Lincoln. During his life he had rebuked pope and king ; he had corrected prelates and reformed monks ; in him the priests lost a director, scholars a supporter, the people a preacher. He was hospitable and liberal ; cheerful and affable at the table ; devout, contrite, and penitent in the divine services ; as a bishop he was sedulous, venerable, and indefatigable.' ^ M. Paris, in mm. 1253. DEATH OF HENRY HI. 231 But he was not a saint as saints were measured in that age. When he died, says our monastic informant, sounds like those of a great convent bell melodiously ringing were heard by wayfarers, though no bell was near. Men knew afterwards that it was ' the very time when Eobert, Bishop of Lincoln, breathed forth his happy spirit.' Thus the troubled years passed on. ' Eighteous souls ' were vexed by the sore bondage, and were unable to see the hght. At last the vacillating and feeble Henry III. was laid in that tomb which yet remains within the glorious monument of that inglorious reign, the Westminster Church, with which he replaced the building of one equally weak and equally subject to foreign unpatriotic influence, whose name he gave to his noble son — Edward. With him passed away the re- proach and degradation of England, and the papal despotism speedily found itself in the face of a greater power, the laws and liberties of a determined people. 232 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. CHAPTEE IX. MEDIEVAL INSTITUTIONS. The period comprised in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, lately traversed in these pages, gave birth to institutions which have largely moulded the subse- quent centuries. These institutions will, therefore, require a somewhat detailed notice. A separate chap- ter devoted to their consideration will least interrupt the due historical sequence of events. The rise of universities and of the mendicant orders will especially demand attention. Both of these belong to the period in question, and no words are needed to point out their importance. Claims of remote antiquity have been made for some of the most renowned seats of learning, but it is exceedingly difficult, or rather impossible, for the most part, to trace for them a continuous history. The life of Lanfranc ^ will illustrate the earlier condition of the schools of Europe. Where a great teacher chose his residence large numbers of students speedily flocked around him. But it by no means followed that a per- manent seat of learning should be the result of his labours. Paris ^ was one of the first to attain this his- torical position. From the early part of the twelfth century it can trace the undisputed existence of its great schools, and even before that time individual J See page 161. ^ Hallam, Mid. Ages, ix. 2. EARLY UNIVEPtSITIES. 233 teachers are said to have read lectures there. Salerno may have been still older, especially as a school of medicine, and Bologna, whatever its claims to an- tiquity, stands historically on mucli the same ground with Paris. The earliest charter which the university of Paris possessed was from Philip Augustus in the year 1199. Bologna was recognised by the Emperor Frederic Barbarossa in 1158, and thenceforward uni- versities were endowed with special privileges and exemptions alike by sovereigns and by popes. Prac- tically speaking, therefore, the latter half of the twelfth century, and the beginning of the thirteenth, is the age of the commencement of the recognised privileges and historical existence of universities. This alone would mark a turning-point in the civihsation and culture of Europe. Such, undoubtedly, with all its troubles, is the era which witnessed the gradual subsi- dence of the Crusades, and the development of com- merce and learning. The very title University [Universitas), as we apply it, is due to this age. Its more general media3val use, derived from Eoman law, had been nearly equivalent to a guild or corporation. We may read of a ' uni- versity of tailors ' as well as of scholars. There might be a ' university of jurists ' and a ' university of students in arts ' in the same place. But henceforward the name gradually assumed the sense to which we are accustomed. In England may be traced a movement strictly parallel to that on the Continent. Whatever ground either of our famous universities may have for citing the names of Saxon sovereigns in their com- memoration of benefactors, it seems clear that they are unable to prove a continuous existence before the twelfth century. Wood, the antiquarian, asserts tliat 234 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. in 1201 Oxford contained 3,000 scholars. However this may be, King John ^ is said to have conferred upon this university its earhest charters. Others name a charter of Henry HI. (1244) as its earhest charter of privileges, and another of that monarch (1231) as the earliest for Cambridge. It is sufficiently manifest that their legal existence has run very parallel from the first. The earhest collegiate foundations in Oxford are those of University, Balliol, and Merton Colleges, all within the thirteenth century. Only one college in Cambridge, that of St. Peter, possesses the same an- tiquity. But in both universities several very ancient institutions have been merged in more recent found- ations, and, therefore, have lost their continuous in- dividual existence. For instance, St. John's College, Cambridge, which dates from about 1511, absorbed an older hospitium founded about 1210. The great Col- lege of Trinity, Cambridge, dating in its present form from Henry YIIL, stands on the ground of several far more ancient halls. It was in connection with these new communities of learning that the remarkable theo- logians known as the schoolmen^ or scholastic divines^ arose. Theology, as taught by them, was based upon a system of logic derived from Aristotle who reigned supreme in all the schools of learning. The dialectics of Aristotle were deemed the highest subject of study. If there had been any care to lay a basis of fact for the exercise of this skill, the consequences might have been different. If the critical study of the grammar of languages had been applied to develope the meaning of Holy Scripture ; if the facts of history had been investigated ; in a word, if these acute reasoners had made sure of their premisses, it is not too much to say ^ Hallam, Mid. Ages, ix. 2. SCHOLASTIC THEOLOGY. 235 that the history of the world would have been different. But it was far otherwise. The Bible had been so handled for centuries that mystic meanings imposed on every part had made it cease to speak plain sense and clear doctrine. History was so vague that the false decretals were held to be the voice of early pontiffs ; the donation of Constantine was esteemed a historical fact, and its record an authentic document. Logic applied to principles such as these, and working from falsehood or visionary interpretation as its base, could lead to nothing but systems of falsehood or of learned trifling. Thus in the mediaaval universities it might almost be said, in the prophet's words, ' none was search- ing for truth.' Not that they consciously and wilfully departed from the truth. They either dared not examine their premisses, Avhich it was heresy and death to doubt, or else Avithout hesitation they assumed them. Thus the minds of greatest acuteness were led on in darkness. The most subtle logic, building its distinc- tions and reasonings on false history and false interpre- tation, fashioned that marvellous edifice, mediaeval Eoman theology. That theology reigns still and by the same methods. The decretals themselves have long passed away, even with Eoman divines, into the gulf where all forgeries must lie. But their principles are still assumed, and men even of high modern culture are found to embrace them without any exhaustive examination, and having embraced them, speedily find themselves able to go the whole length of the Papal claims which rest upon them. That a large amount of absolute infidelity lay hidden in those days behind such academical reasonings is certain. How far some of those acute intellects faithfully received, or with cynical scorn silently accepted, tlie ecclesiastical dogmas which 236 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. served as the basis of their logical deductions can be known to none but to the Omniscient. It was by men of this type that the current theology was fashioned into a system. For example, transub- stantiation by this time reigned supreme throughout Europe. The schoolmen shaped it into dogmatic cohe- rence. But the grounds on which this dogma had obtained such general acceptance were scarcely theolo- gical, much less Scriptural or philosophical. William of Malmesbury, monk and historian, writing in the time of Eufus, no doubt gives the true account of the grounds of his belief when he says in his account of Berengar ^ : — ' We, indeed, believe that after the bene- diction of the priest, those mysteries become the very body and blood of the Saviour. We are induced to such an opinion by the authority of the ancient Church, and by many miracles recently manifested, such as Paschasius relates to have taken place in Germany when the priest Plegild visibly touched the form of a boy upon the altar, and after kissing him, partook of him turned into the similitude of bread, after the custom of the Church. Such too is that concerning the Jewish boy, who by chance running into a church with a Christian boy of the same age saw a child torn to pieces on the altar and distributed to the people. When with childish innocence he related this to his parents, they placed him in a furnace where the fire was burning and the door closed. From thence after many hours he was snatched by the Christians without injury to his person, clothes, or hair. Being asked how he could escape the devouring flames, he replied — *' That beautiful woman whom I saw sitting in the chair, whose son was divided among the people, always stood * William of Maloies., in ann. 1087. THE SCHOLASTIC SYSTEM. 237 at my right hand in the furnace, keeping off the flames with her garments." ' Such were the stories on which the popular behef in transubstantiation fed and grew. Just so the behef in purgatory rested mainly in its origin on dreams and visions of visits to its ghastly realms by cataleptic persons. The schoolmen shaped both one and the other belief into coherent dogma. But the philosophical explanation of transubstantiation was their master-piece. The distinctions between the substance and the accidents of matter were refinements on which a subtle intellect could base endless theories. Thus they proved to their satisfaction that the ignorant superstition of the previous centuries might be fashioned into a philosophy. Though taste, smell, size, colour, consistence had suffered no change, these were but a veil and did not reach the substance of the consecrated bread. The substance was after all not composed of the accidents, the substance was no less than the whole glorified humanity of the Lord Jesus. The scholastic system prevailed in the universities until the Eeformation. Dean Milman ^ has well de- scribed its aim, its methods, and its results in these words. It was the theology of ' the disputant, bound by conventional scientific forms, with a tendency to degenerate from a severe investigation of truth into a trial of technical skill. In its highest tone, however ingenious, acute, and subtle, it presented every question in every possible form ; it was comprehensive so as to embrace the most puerile and frivolous, as well as the most momentous and majestic enquiries : if dry, weari- some, unawakening in its form, as litigation, and as a strife of contending minds, it became of intense interest. ^ Latin Ch'igfianiti/, viii. 6. 238 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. It was the intellectual tournament of a small intellectual aristocracy, to which all the scholars who were bred to more peaceful avocations thronged in multitudes.' Among the scholastic divines Thomas Aquinas and Duns Scotus stand pre-eminent for the influence they have had over the human mind. To the purpose of this work it rather belongs to name such as sprang from the English Church. Of these Alexander of Hales, a monastery near Winchcombe in Gloucester- shire, is the chief. He is said to have studied at Oxford, but the great scene of his theological career was Paris, where he attained the highest reputation, and the proud title of the Irrefragable Doctor : Duns Scotus, and Bonaventura were among his pupils. He died in 1245. A more illustrious name, in the estimation of those who value science and truth, is that of Eoger Bacon (1214-1292). He is often named among the scholastics, but was not of them. Their methods were not his, nor did he aim at their results. He was the forerunner of his great namesake in perceiving that the facts of nature itself must be investigated by one who would know truth. It was thus that he was far in advance of his age, and anticipated modern discoveries in many things from which that superstitious time was unable and unwilhng to profit. He was the most truly illustrious son of Oxford in that age. The reigns of John and Henry III. in England were the time of a monastic development which requires special notice — the rise of the Mendicant Orders. The history of Monasticism has been from the very first chequered, even beyond the ordinary course of human history, with extremes of lofty aim and deepest abase- ment. Piety, the most fervid even if misdirected ; MONASTIC CORRUPTIONS. 239 self-denial the most severe, even if mistaken ; cor- ruption and sensuality the grossest ; learning which was the light of the age ; ignorance the most grovelling — these form the strange mingled thread of monastic history as it is followed down from its rise in the fourth century. No reader of original history or mediaeval theology can fail to know this. Since the Eeformation it has been common to discern that an institution which severs itself from the very basis of society laid down by the Almighty Himself when He made man, is funda- mentally unsound, and cannot fail to breed corruption. Before the Eeformation men marvelled that so pure and holy a hfe, as the monastic was deemed, should so perpetually falsify expectation. Popes, councils, bishops, heads of monasteries, from age to age strove to purify these institutions, and strove in vain. It is not, as has been so frequently alleged, mere Protestant controversial rhetoric which has written a factious bill of indictment against the cloistered life. The most unsavoury reading that could well be selected would lie among the charges brought by authority in Saxon and Norman times against a large proportion of the monks and nuns of England. Hence arose a series of attempts at reforma- tion century after century. Sometimes these took the form of enforcing with greater exactness the existing rules of an order. Sometimes the zeal of a sanguine reformer invented new rules and founded a new order. The rule introduced by Benedict of Nursia in 529 prevailed throughout Europe before the Norman era. To this rule it was the effort of Dunstan and his coad- jutors to reduce the irregular monks of England. To this order belonged the more ancient abbeys whose history reached back into those earher times. St. Albans, Croyland, Westminster, Winchester, Evesham, 240 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. Abingdon, Glastonbury, and many more stately and wealthy abbeys were under this ancient rule. At the great revival of religious fervour in the eleventh century which accompanied the Hildebrandine movement in the Papacy — a movement which rapidly made itself felt throughout Western Europe — it was natural that there should be a rekindling of monastic zeal. If in that age the Crusades carried away the more adventurous spirits, a kindred excitement led to a revival in the monastic life at home. Accordingly about this period several enthusiasts, not satisfied with what seemed the sluggishness of the old Benedictine rule, founded new orders. Among these may be noticed the Carthusians and the Cistercians. The severity of the Carthusian rule is generally known, with its rules of silence, and the hard manual labour which perhaps alone has made its stern life possible. It still survives, though, from its very character it could never have been so numerously followed as some others. It was founded in 1084, and its great seat. La grande Chartreuse, may yet be visited. In England the most familiarly known of the few houses belonging to this order has been that which was founded, long after the period of which we are speaking, just outside the walls of London. Its site and remains, by the munificence of a benefactor in the reign of James L, were dedicated to charity and education. The Charterhouse still retains with but slight alteration the name of the Chartreuse^ which was the original home of its monastic inmates. The other order which has been named, that of the Cistercians, attained far greater extension. They owed their origin in 1098 to the abbot of Citeaux {Cistercium), whence the name of the order. Dissatisfied with the laxity of his Benedictine brethren, Eobert of Moleme in THE CISTERCIAN ORDER. 2-41 Burgundy withdrew to the retired spot where his famous order rapidly grew into extraordinary fame and opulence. He had, indeed, been preceded in tlie tenth century by a similar reformer, another Eurgundian, Odo abbot of Clugni, from whom proceeded the Cluniac rule. It was a revival of the strictness of the Bene- dictine order, coupled with some additional regulations, which gave an air of greater sanctity according to the ideas of the age. The revival spread through many monasteries, and the Cluniac rule acquired great cele- brity and influence. But the Cistercian changes coin- ciding with the great ecclesiastical movements of the Norman era attained proportionally great importance. Their rule was that of St. Benedict, but to this were added injunctions of the greatest austerity. Each monastic reformer, observing declensions in the strict- ness and purity of life among his brethren, conceived the idea that by some additional rules, some stricter observances, he might check the natural working of human corruption. Each in turn was disappointed ; the desired result endured no longer than the fervid stimulus of the revival remained. The Cistercians, however, retained that stimulus longer than some others, and hence acquired an extraordinary reputation and spread themselves Avidely. There have been members of their body to whom, in spite of the dillerences of creed, men of the most widely varying opinions have been ready to ascribe a saintly character. Pre-eminent among these may be named tlie great St. Bernard (1091-1153), abbot of Clairvaux. He has been styled by Eoman writers the last of the fathers. No man in his age exercised so vast an influence, and his reputa- tion gave the great stimulus to the spread of the Cister- cian rule. With regard to England the dates will R 242 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. speak for themselves. Authorities differ as to the exact numbers, but within the twelfth century (that in which Bernard flourished) there were seventy or eighty Cister- cian establishments planted in England, and in the following half century sixteen more. This order, closely following the idea of their first home at Citeaux, fre- quently placed their habitations in some lonely wilder- ness. Hence the lover of picturesque antiquity may still linger among the remains of their magnificent archi- tecture, while the great edifices of the mendicants of whom we have yet to speak, being of necessity seated in towns, have for the most part perished. Few can be more generally known than the stately abbey of Tin- tern, lying in its once isolated ravine under the cliffs which overhang the tortuous course of the Wye. This Avas founded for the Cistercians by the great house of de Clare in the days of Henry I., about 1131, though the elegance of the flowing tracery points to a later origin for its mas^nificent church. Another of the Cistercian settlements is the equally renowned Fountains Abbey. If less beautiful, yet more perfect in the preservation of some of its domestic arrangements, is Kirkstall ; which remains, a strange memorial of the pristine solitude of that now busy valley, almost under the canopy of the smoke of Leeds. In both of these the antiquarian may note the Norman work of the earliest settlers, followed by the more elaborate workmanship of the succeeding centuries. But with their growing wealth these institutions became rapidly discredited like their predecessors, and when the thirteenth century came it was clear that something else was needed. This, men thought, they had found in the mendicant orders of whicli we have now to. speak. The lists compiled by antiquaries, such THE MENDICANT ORDEKS. 243 as Dugdale, Tanner, and others, show that after the middle of the thirteenth century scarcely any monas- teries of the older orders were founded in England. But in that subsequent period of hospitals and colleges there sprang into existence nearly one hundred, and of the mendicant orders more tlian two hundred establish- ments. These numbers sufficiently tell in what direc- tion public opinion was running. It should be added that the mendicant orders had nearly exhausted the munificence of founders before the fourteenth century had run its course. But it is time to speak of their rise and history. The monastic life hitherto had only indirectly sub- served the good of mankind generally. It had, no doubt, fostered the arts and preserved learning to some extent, when otherwise in turbulent and uncivilised communities they might have perished. It had done much for the development of agriculture, and amelio- rated the condition of the peasantry on the monastery lands. But its religious principle from the first was isolation and seclusion. And this remained its distin- guishing characteristic when wealth and magnificence attended its stately ceremonial. Still ' the Eule ' of the Order contemplated the monk in his relation to his own community, and as one cut off from the world. But the world was rapidly changing. The great movements of the Crusades, the intellectual awakening, the spread of commercial enterprise, the extent to which anti-papal opinions had grown, especially in the south of France, the turbulent population of the great cities — all these produced changes whicli Avere now calHng for an agency of a different character from the priest who recited his daily mass, or tlie monk who cared for his own spiritual welfare in the cloister. An agency 244 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. demanded by the spirit of an age will commonly appear. The result may ultimately be disappointment, but the attempt will be welcomed. Two men of very different temperament, but with very similar aim, about this time founded the renowned orders of Dominicans and Franciscans. Francis of Assisi (1182-1226), an Italian, and Dominic (1170-1221), a Spaniard, conceived, much about the same time, a similar idea. The history of Francis of Assisi, ignorant and fanatical as he was, has its special interest. Omitting the consideration of his strange personal history, and considering only the prin- ciple on which he founded his order, it may be said that he saw his wa}^ to a great extent through some of the worst mistakes of the orig-inal monastic idea. Instead of that most fearful and bewildering, if not maddening practice, as it may well be deemed, of the solitary man without employment or intercourse with others wresthng with the thoughts and temptations which crowd around him, he would have his brethren engaged in constant activity and labour. In his later life he learned to dis- regard ascetic practices and mortifications, excepting so far as they might be means to an end. In the monastic life they had been viewed as merits in themselves. He taught that activity in winning souls to God, and in going forth to work for the benefit of those for whom Christ died, was the true religious life. In preaching he would have his followers bear in mind all human sympathies, and speak of divine things as men to men. The example ^ of Christ in giving up all that He might teach and labour and die for those whom He would re- deem he proposed as the true model. ' There is only one mark,' said he to one of his order, ' by which I can know whether thou art a servant of God ; namely, if ' Neander, vii. 370. THE FRANCISCAN ORDER. 245 thou compassionately bringest back wandering brethren to God, and never ceasest to love those who grievously err.' It is not needful to dwell on the more fanciful or grotesque side of such a cliaracter. The superstitions of that age have been sufficiently illustrated, and Francis was possessed by them to the full. Nor need the details of the orders founded by liim occupy furtlier space. It requires no additional explanation to under- stand the burst of welcome which principles such as these received throughout western Christendom. Here, at least, was the idea of a Christ-like life, a hfe of service and of love — a life of self-denial and poverty — not to minister to spiritual pride and conventual fame, but to the good, spiritual and temporal, of those for whom Christ died. Neither, alas ! does it need further expla- nation to understand the melancholy sequel. It is one thing for those whom the Spirit of God has taught to set forth their experience, and to ' let their light shine before men.' It is another thing for a multitude of carnal men, unenliglitened by the grace of God, to crowd into a popular order, to wear its dress, to avail themselves of its privileges, and to drag it down into the very mire in wliich the followers of Francis were grovelling ere two generations had passed. As the papal system cannot exclude the influence of the Spirit of God, which ' bloweth where it listeth,' so also its inveterate corruptions of the truth seem always fatally to mar tlie permanence of the spiritual work of its best adherents. The history of Dominic is very diflerent from that of Francis. Still there is this in common between them : Dominic perceived that the wealth and statehness of the existing orders were a positive bar to their use- fulness. He taught by example and ])recept that the 246 HISTORY or the church of ENGLAND. necessity of the age, especially with a view to the heresies rife among the masses of people in France and elsewhere, was to have men who would go forth amongst men, living as they lived, sharing with the poorest, teaching and preaching wherever they went. If he and his followers were fearfully compromised in tlie horrors of the Inquisition which reared its fearful form about that time — while this must not be forgotten, neither must it be brought into sole prominence in such an age as that. How far, even at first, the followers of these men either grasped the idea or fulfilled the intent of their founders, it would be invidious to enquire, and impos- sible absolutely to determine. What tliey became, no doubt always with brilliant exceptions, is notorious. They were the reproach and scandal of the Church. Favoured as they were by the popes, they rapidly ob- tained special privileges. Their organisation was that of an army under the direct control of the general of their order resident at Eome. This constitution made them the ready instruments of papal despotism, since, through their general, the popes could exercise an im- mediate influence throughout western Europe. They were privileged to preach and hold confessions wher- ever they went. They were exempted from episcopal jurisdiction. No parochial right could restrain their liberty. They speedily occupied the places of most in- fluence. They were frequently confessors of princes, papal secretaries, counsellors of sovereigns. At the universities they were aiming at predominance. The greatest of the schoolmen were numbered in their orders. At the same time the wandering mendicant preachers, the lowest indulgence-mongers, spread their influence among the populace. If illustration of this declension PRIVILEGES OF THE MENDICANTS. 247 be needed, there is no occasion to quote the attacks of the parish clergy or indignant monks of that age ; much less need subsequent Protestant utterances find expres- sion, for the confessions of tlieir own members would suffice. Yet it may be advisable to present the bitter language in which the monk of St. Alban's, known as Matthew^ Paris,^ described these novel intruders using the special privileges and exemptions with which the pope had endowed them. He tells us that even in the presence of great ecclesiastical dignitaries they would demand permission to preach to the people, ' as being legates and even angels of God.' They would also in- solently ask of those they met, ' Have you been con- fessed ? ' Answered, ' I have,' they would again ask, ' By whom ? ' 'By my own priest,' would probably be the answer. ' Who is that idiot,' replied the friar ; ' he has never learned theology, he has never unravelled dark questions. They are blind, and leaders of the bhnd. Come to us. Confess to us.' The old monk speaks of the confusion and dismay, and consequent immorahties produced in parishes, where the bond of allegiance to the priest was thus rudely violated. One scene he describes in his own great church of St. Alban's, where the archdeacon was presiding at some local council. It may remind us of some of the intru- sions of the early Quakers on a congregation of the seventeenth century. One of the friars demanded silence since he was about to preach. ' Conduct your- self more moderately, brother,' replied the archdeacon ; ' wait a little. We simple ])ersons, who are used to old and approved customs, wonder at this sudden innovation, which produces astonishment and alarm.' We need not pursue the scene, for we may refer to one of tliem- ^ Mattb. ^ari^', in ann. 124(5. 248 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. selves, the celebrated Franciscan, Bonaventura, who wrote thus,^ when appointed general of his order only some thirty years after the founder's death, about 1256. ' The danger of the times, the violation of our own con- sciences, the scandal of worldly people, to whom the order, which should be to them a mirror of holiness, has become an object of contempt and abhorrence, all rouse us to action.' He proceeds to enumerate causes for this bad repute. Cupidity for money, costly build- ings, monopoHsing funeral rites and drawing up wills, the exactions of the itinerant friars. Thus, then, this dream of perfection ended. Pro- perty, repudiated in profession, became possessed in fact, and the religious mendicant sallied forth on his rounds from the gates of the most magnificent edifices, the proud home of his order. In vain had Francis done his utmost to bind on his brethren the yoke of perpetual poverty. Amongst his rules may be read : — ;' I command positively all my brethren that they receive no money in any way directly or indirectly : that they acquire no jDroperty, no house, no place, nothing whatever. They shall be as strangers and pilgrims, without shame, for the Lord made Himself poor for us.' He even provided against that fruitful source of laxity, papal indulgence. ' I command all my brethren, upon their obedience, never directly or indirectly to seek any letter from the Eoman Curia on any pretext. I charge them to allow no gloss upon my rule, nor to say " such and such was his meaning," but to take my words pure and simple as the Lord gave me to write.' Nevertheless, a centur}^ had not passed before a papal constitution hewed a way out through this barri- ' Neander, vii. 390. THE FOUR ORDERS OF FRIARS. 249 cade of words of childlike simplicity. After a long preamble on the merits of poverty, it ruled that, after all, the possession and moderate use of necessary things must be granted to the friars. But that since possession either several or common was denied to them, the pro- perty of all goods belonging to the order should be vested in the pope, who grants the use of them to the friars. Thus was the will of Francis, as that of all others, set aside by papal authority, the very thing wdiich he had striven to obviate. By this ingenious fiction, which bound the Franciscan yet more closely to the pontiff, the pope and not the friar was lord and owner of the wealth and magnificence of the order, which in its lordly poverty confessed itself only tenant and occupier and not possessor. The Franciscans were further known as friars minor [fratres minores) ; and the Dominicans as preaching friars {fratres prcedicatores). Ultimately, four orders of mendicant friars were recognised by the pope in 1272. The Dominicans, or Black Friars, have left a lingering name in London, near the site of their ancient settlement. Then come the Franciscans, or Grey Friars, whose convent, with its church of cathedral magnificence, was transferred by Edward VI. to his new foundation of Christ's Hospital. The great fire of London swept away the remains of that ancient grandeur, but the good intentions of former generations are fruitful in a charity they had not devised. The Carmelites are less conspicuous in history, though an order of some consequence. They were known as tlie Wliite Friars, a name which still survives near the Temple, in a turning out of the busy thoroughfare of Fleet Street. Their privileges of sanctuary strangely survived the Reformation itself, and the crenius of Sir 250 HISTORY OF THE CHUKCH OF ENGLAND. Walter Scott has j)erpetuated the memory of that Alsatia, where the ruffians of the thnes of James I. were enabled to defy the law in the ancient precincts of Whitefriars. The Augustinians are chiefly remarkable to the Pro- testant reader as having numbered in their ranks no less a personage than Martin Luther himself. Their name also yet remains in the City. Austin Friars is now a street, not far from the Bank of England, dedicated to commerce, or, it might almost be said, to speculation. The offices of stock brokers and dealers will most pro- minently meet the eye of one who, turning out of Broad Street, wanders down the region whence of old the Austin Friars sallied forth on their errand of religious mendicancy. It may be of some interest to give the numerical notes ^ of rehgious foundations in England as they have been collected by learned antiquarians. Two hundred and sixty-five foundations are known to have existed in Saxon times. From the reign of Wilham the Conqueror to that of Edward III., inclusive, there were founded of religious houses, 152 Benedictine, 188 Austin Canons, 31 Cluniac, 80 Cis tertian, 25 Gilbertine Canons, 34 Prasmonstratentian, 97 Ahen, 292 hospitals and colleges, 53 Grey Friars, 43 Black Friars, 83 other friars ; in all 1,078. It is not pretended that these numbers are ex- act, for they are somewhat varied by different authors. But it is instructive to notice how rapidly the number dwindles. In the twelfth century 418 monasteries sprang up, in the thirteenth 139, in the fourteenth 23, and in the fifteenth only 3 ; whilst many (including the alien priories) were suppressed ; and of hospitals and colleges about 90 had their origin. During this later period the * Pearson, Historical Majys of England, p. 55. FOUNDATION OF CHANTRIES. 251 chief enrichments accrued to the religious houses from the increasing custom of founding chantries for saying mass for the founder's soul. This mode of procuring rest for the soul became a constant item in the wills of the wealthier classes. Besides the constantly occurring bequests of certain sums to be expended in the purchase of a number of masses, there were frequently special endowments for perpetual masses for the departed. Hence in our parish churches the number of traces of multiplied altars formerly in existence. Hence also some of the most exquisite works of art in the deli- cately wrought chapels, which serve to accentuate the arch-spaces in cathedrals, or churches of cathedral grandeur. If a specimen be desired of such foundations, an ex- tract from the will of the devout Lady Margaret, the mother of Henry VH., may well serve. She was to be laid in the grandest of such chapels, that built by her son at Westminster, where the Tudors he, with others gathered to them since. So she ordered that ^ ' three perpetual daily masses, with divine service and observ- ances, be daily said by three sad and discreet monks of the said monastery, for the health of our soul perpetu- ally while the world shall endure ; and one perpetual brother, called a converse, to be perpetually kept in the same monastery, specially to serve the same monks at their masses, and all other priests that shall say their masses at the altars w^hereat the said three chantry masses shall be said.' Then comes the question of pay- ment. Devout and true was the Lady Margaret, but it must be owned that in this, as in her other foundations, she somewhat robbed the Church. Neither she nor her ^ Appendix to Hymer's Funeral Sermon of Maryaret, Countess of Rich- innnd. 252 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. excellent adviser, Bishop Fislier, saw with other eyes than those of their own times. ^ What kings and popes had sanctioned for centuries why should not she deem right ? So she proceeded that by ' licence of the said king (Henry VII.) our sovereign lord and dear son, we have given and granted to the abbot, prior, and convent of the said monastery the advowsons of the church of Swineshead in the county of Lincoln, and of the church of Cheshunt in the county of Hertford, then of our patronage. Which parsonages, the abbot, prior, and convent of the same monastery, at their special desire, have accepted and taken at the yearly value of 53/. 65. 86?. over all charges, which be indeed at this day of greater value.' But this was not all : valuable manors were added in order that this and her other foundations might be sufficiently and duly maintained, ' while the world shall endure,' said the Lady Margaret. Her world, the world she had known, had but short endur- ance. Half a century had not passed when the three masses were silent for ever, and her grandson and great- grandson brought in a new world. But the parsonages or rectorial endowments which she granted away (though she probably was not the first who took them) from Swineshead and Cheshunt, sank into the gulf which received monastic and chantry property. So Swines- head at least remains a poor, bereft vicarage, though that of Cheshunt seems to have been somehow compen- sated for its loss. Happily our behef in the covenant mercy does not allow the thought that the Lady Margaret can have suffered loss, or that the divine honour has been injured, because the masses are silent, and the seventy wax lights slie ordered year by year on her anniversary ' See Chap. XIH. LADY MARGARET OF RICHMOND. 253 cast no gleam through the arches of Westminster, else might one who has tasted her bounty, and owes so much to her great foundations in Cambridge, feel some pang of regret that her will had known such brief vitality in that part which was personal to herself. But it has been with her as it has been with so many of the liberal benefactors of old time. Centuries have passed aAvay. The ever-corroding stream of time has undermined the sandy foundations of much that was stately and seemed enduring as our forefathers beheld it. But what they built on the firmer rock of truth lias stood the chafing of the rest- less tide. The universities dedicated to a higher learn- ing, and owning subjection to the divine truth whose foundations they ever explore and strengthen, have endured. May their twin mottos be fulfilled, and ' the Lord be their light,' while many generations yet draw from them ' light and draughts of holiness.' 254 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. CHAPTER X. THE DECLINE OF THE PAPAL POWER. Kings of England. Edward I. . . . 1272—1307. ] Edward II. . . . 1307—1327. Edward III. 1327—1377. The sweet fresh air of freedom was wafted from time to time across the dreary unwholesome period lately traversed. It will invigorate less fitfully that which now awaits consideration. To mark the change which less than a century wrought in the balance of power between the ecclesiastical and civil authority it would suffice to contrast the two popedoms of 1198-1216 and 1294-1303. In the former of these, Innocent III. has been seen dominating over princes, and compelhng Philip Augustus of Prance and John of England to submit to his will. In the second of these, Boniface VIII. , after pretensions no less arrogant, was constrained to yield to the haughty resistance of Edward I. and his parliament, and after the ignominy of personal capture by the agents of the French King, Philip the Pair, he died broken-hearted. It had been found by bitter experience that the Papal See could ally itself to the cause of tyranny and extortion. The illusion had passed away that the great potentate ruhng by the Tiber might be regarded as a refuge for the oppressed. On the contrary, as the political review in this chapter will show, and as the history of WyclifTe will further illustrate, the Papal RESULTS OF THE CRUSADES. 255 Court was now popularly regarded as the very home of simony and rapacity. The privileges of the clergy for which Becket died became odious long before they were swept away. As yet there was no shaking of doctrinal foundations, but the cry for a reform which should abate the moral corruption and luxury of the clergy was heard on every side. The world too was rapidly changing. Learning was lifting up its head, and the universities, now fresh in their early youth, brought a widely-spread intel- lectual awakening. The Crusades practically closed with the expedition in which Edward I. took a part at the end of his father's reign. Politically and ecclesias- tically they were a disastrous failure. But they had drawn nations together. Their vast armaments had tended to organise the science of government, and to develop commercial enterprise. The productions of the East, the hngering arts and learning of the old centres of Christianity, the navigation of the Mediterranean, became familiar in the Northern lands. The lead in commerce fell, indeed, rather to the Italian republics than the Teutonic nations, yet these also participated in the wealth-gathering movement. The cities and chartered towns with their privileges and strong spirit of citizenship were becoming a power. The armed citizens of London, with their riches, their organisation, and their discipline, made themselves felt in the civil contests of the age, and their strength was usually thrown on tlie side of freedom. At the close of the twelfth century they elected ^ their own mayor, and the name of that officer appears among the signatures to tlie Great Charter. Lideed, excepting in the vapouring style of chivalry, there never was a time when the ^ Stuhbs, Condit. Hist., i. G30 ; Freeman, chap. xxiv. 2-56 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. wealth of the successful trader failed to exercise its due influence. In Saxon times he who thrice crossed the seas in his own craft was counted worthy of the rank of thane. The great house of de la Pole, which at- tained the first place among nobles, and in the time of the Tudors was even of royal rank, sprang from mer- chants in Hull and in London. Not only were all these elements of national strength gathering might, but yet greater social changes had grown out of the sufferings and struggles of the disas- trous period which had closed. Englishmen had learned to trust each other in combination for the public good. The Great Charter was no selfish claim for class privi- leges ; it assured the common principles of freedom. The remarkable movement of which Simon de Montfort was the head in the time of Henry HI., was no mere strife of feudal magnates against their sovereign. It was a union of Englishmen in support of national in- dependence and national liberty. The clergy, insulted and impoverished by papal officials, were to a great extent leavened with the same spirit. To a people thus rising in national union, and penetrated by a sentiment of freedom, it pleased Providence to send a sovereign capable of understanding t]iem, and able to lead them. In a happy hour the stately form of Edward I. was enthroned in England. Whatever ma}^ be the result of antiquarian discussions as to the origin of parliaments, or however certain their unbroken lineal descent from the meetings of the Saxon Gemotes,^ yet as organised representative assemblies they trace their history distinctly from the reign of Edward I. Henceforth the great legal changes must be cited not merely as royal grants or charters, or as constitutions ^ Ilallam, Mid. Ayes, \\\. ch. i. 3 ; Freeman, xxiv. GROWTH OF THE ENGLISH CONSTITUTION. 257 of irregularly summoned councils, but as Statutes op THE Eealm. So great, indeed, was the constitutional development in the reign of Edward I. that Blackstone ^ says that ' he has been styled our English Justinian.' Sir Matthew Hale does not scruple to affirm, that ' more was done in the first thirteen years of his reign to settle and esta- blish the distributive justice of the kingdom, than in all the ages since that time put together.' Still it is one thing thus to trace the legal recognition of constitu- tional usages and precedents, and altogether another thing to adjust their exact bearings on the relations of prerogative and popular hberty. It was the work of many centuries before either of these learned their several limits, and before the fruitful germs of prin- ciples planted wisely in the soil of the earlier ages ripened into the stately growth of the Enghsh Constitu- tion. Neither can it be necessary to enlarge on the manifold inconsistencies of the wisest of these early Plantagenets. There is a tendency in all statesmen to act inconsistently. Their duty is not that of the theorist in his study. Compelled to act promptly and decide rapidly according to the exigency of the moment, they are always tempted, if they have the power, to lean to this party or that, or to strain prerogative, if either seems Hkely to accomphsh the immediate and pressing necessity. In negotiations with the Papal Court this inconsistency may often be marked. The same sovereign may at one time resist any application of papal patronage in his kingdom ; at another time he may negotiate with the pope for the appointment of some prelate to a see where he desires to secure the succession ' B. iv. c. 33. s 258 fflSTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. of his own nominee against popular or monastic pre- ference. The great and successful wars of Edward I. con- duced to some of the developments which have been mentioned. For an ample supply of money is the first necessity in all great mihtary enterprises. This naturally leads to a strict scrutiny and organisation of the national resources, and the best means of reaching, without ex- hausting, the revenues of every class in society. As these necessities led to a great enhancement of the powers of the laity by their representatives in Parha- ment, so also they left indehble traces on the organisa- tion of the assemblies of the clergy. The civil laws of Justinian had conferred great immunities from taxa- tion on the clergy, and the Canon Law had followed up these exemptions. But the estates of the Church com- prised so large a portion of the realm of England, that their freedom from pubhc burdens would have been intolerable to the nation. By fair means or foul, by exaction or gift, the kings of England had obtained pecuniary succours from the clergy. Henceforward these contributions were placed on a more legal basis. The era of the early parliaments, which has been under review, is also the era in which the assembhes of the clergy, known as the Houses of Convocation, assumed their historical form. The idea of a Church assembly is inherent in the very notion, nay the very name, of a Church. Even that theory of the Church which conceives the loosest and least coherent model, the Independent or Congre- gational system, strives, in spite of its dislocation, to assemble in annual meeting those who find their point of union in the unlimited right of outward marks of disunion. As in the rest of Christendom, so in England, CONVOCATION. 259 there has been a series of provincial synods from the very first, in which, according to ancient usage, the archbishop presided. But to the reign of Edward I. must be referred the origin of that form of these synods which has since been perpetuated under the name of Convocation, and which has played so considerable a part in English history. That form naturally arose out of the principle of self- taxation, which hes at the root of parliamentary repre- sentation. As Edward assembled the representatives of his people in Parliament to grant him subsidies, so also for the same purpose he summoned conventions of the clergy. From this time, therefore, is traced the exist- ence of these ecclesiastical representative bodies having a double character. They were, in regard of the taxa- tion of the clergy for state purposes, civil assembhes. In regard of ecclesiastical business they were synods. The mode of summons partook, accordingly, of this twofold character. From that day to this, when the crown summons a parliament, the royal mandate goes forth to the archbishop directing him to summon the clergy to meet in Convocation. The exact form of the meeting of Convocation is later than this.^ It is said to have assumed its perma- nent shape in 1425 under the presidency of Ai'chbishop Chicheley. The mode of debate and assembly seems before that time to have been variable. By Chicheley 's direction the lower clergy retired into a separate room to choose a prolocutor who might serve as their repre- sentative and spokesman in their intercourse with the bishops. Since that time this has been the arrangement, and the two houses of Convocation have sat as separate » Stubbs, Con. Hist., ii. 107. a 9 2G0 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. orders. Practically speaking, the historical Convocation has been that of the province of Canterbury. The province of York in the active days of Convocation con- tained only four members of the episcopacy, and it re- presented a poor and thinly peopled territory. It is still true, that, besides its preeminent dignity, the pro- vince of Canterbury in extent, population, and the number of its bishops must take the lead. But in any future action of the Church the enormous development in wealth and population in the northern counties, together with the increase in the number of its bishops, will give to the province of York a weight in the councils of the Church which in former times it never possessed. The relation of Convocation to Parhament has been the subject of learned discussion. Burn, in his work on ' Ecclesiastical Law,' lays it down as a principle of English law, that even in Saxon times, when the clergy in Synod agreed on any canon on Church matters, it required the ratification of the Witan and the king before it could be accepted as a law of the realm, and that the Norman Conquest made no change in this respect. Accordingly, even when Convocation ^ laid a tax upon the clergy, the assent of Parliament was still required before the measure had the force of law. Hence Parhament has usually treated the Convocation with respect, but only in the capacity of giving advice,^ not at all as a co-ordinate power even in matters involving doctrine. The fact that Convocation received its permanent shape in an age when the higher orders were extremely wealthy, and the lower ranks for the most part poor, naturally led to that inadequate representation of the ^ Burn, Eccles. Law, Art. Convocation. ^ Coke, Inst. iv. 5 . CONVOCATION. 261 general body of the clergy which in modern times has been one great source of its weakness. The scale of representation was settled by Archbishop Peckham in 1283 in the following manner.^ ' Each of the bishops shall cause the clergy of his diocese to be assembled in a certain place, and shall there have carefully ex- pounded to them the propositions made on behalf of the king, so that from each diocese two proctors in the name of the clergy, and from each cathedral and coUegiate chapter one proctor, shall be sent with suffi- cient instructions, who shall have full and express power of treating with us and our brethren upon the premises, and of consenting to such measures as for the honour of the Church, the comfort of the king, and the peace of the realm the community of the clergy shall provide.' It is one of the numerous illustrations of the conti- nuity of Enghsh institutions to find the Convocation of Canterbury still summoned in the numbers prescribed by Archbishop Peckham six hundred years ago. In the province of York there is a more full representation of the parochial clergy, two proctors having been sum- moned from each archdeaconry since 1279. In that province the cathedral bodies, moreover, are fewer in number. Thus the Convocation of York possesses more of a representative character than that of Canterbury, two thirds of the lower house of which province sit ex officio, and one third only is elected. The legal antiqua- rian finds abundant matter for his peculiar investigations in the early sittings, powers, and privileges of Convoca- tion. This brief account may, however, suffice for the present purpose in tracing its rise within the Plantagenet 1 Stubbs, Const. Hist., ch. xv. 199 ; Wilkins, ii. 49. 262 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. times until the progress of the Eeformation modified its proceedings. If now some account be given of the legislation directly affecting the Church in this great reign, refer- ence must be made to several statutes. The first may be that of 1275, commonly styled that of Westminster the First. ^ Without expressly naming the clergy, it enacted that all classes of subjects claiming the pubhc protection should be amenable to the same laws, and contribute to the common necessities. At a critical moment in the reign of Edward I., this statute was brought to bear with supreme effect upon the Convoca- tion.^ In 1296 it met in St. Paul's under the presidency of Archbishop Winchelsey. The king demanded a sub- sidy, and, aware of the temper of the archbishop, sent the following peremptory mandate to control the pro- ceedings : — ' Edward,^ by the grace of God, King of England, to the honourable fathers in God, the archbishop, bishops, &c. We forbid you and every of you, under the penalties of whatever you are capable of forfeiting, to make, ordain, or assent to anything in your assembly which may turn to the prejudice or grievance of us, our ministers, or any other of our loyal subjects or adher- ents.' The archbishop on his part produced a recent bull {Clericis laicos) forbidding the clergy, under pain of excommunication, to grant or pay any taxation on Church property without authority from Eome. Ee- lying on this document, the archbishop informed the king that the clergy were disenabled from making him a grant, but were prepared to send to Eome for permis- sion to make one.* The king at once acted upon the 1 Stubbs, Const. Hist., ii. 109. ^ jbi^j,^ jj, 130, 3 Wilkins, ii. 224. ^ wilkins, ii. 226 ; Anglia Sacra, i. 50. THE MORTMAIN ACT. 26 3 statute of Westminster the First. Sentence of outlawry was passed on the clergy refusing their contribution.^ They had placed themselves outside the pale of common rights and protection. They were waylaid by robbers, their property was rifled, the archbishop himself was a chief sufferer, but the law gave no redress. The clergy were compelled to submit,^ and the pope found it expe- dient to let the bull Clericis laicos sleep in peace. Not many years had elapsed before it was annulled by another pontiff. But the great measure passed in this reign to hmit clerical cupidity was that commonly known as the Mortmain Act. It is the Statute 7 Edw. I., 1279, ' De Religiosis^' forbidding any religious person to buy or sell lands or tenements ; or under colour of a gift, or term of years, to receive them from anyone ; or by any means to appropriate them so that they come into mort- main [ad manum mortuam deveniant) under pain of for- feiture of the same. Lands belonging to the Church, or held by a corporation, were said to be in the dead hand or mortmain^ because they ceased to be subject to the customary conditions and liabihties of lands passing by the ordinary rules of succession. That the clergy, who were in fact the lawyers of the age, speedily found means to evade this Act is no more than might be expected, and the law in its turn endea- voured to meet those evasions by new enactments in several successive reigns, into which, with their comph- cated provisions, it is not necessary here to enter. But in order to bring the subject more within the range of modern interests, it may be added that the present law of Mortmain, under an Act of George 11., prohibits all legacies of this nature. It provides that * Matt. West., in ann. 1296. ^ jyj^tt. West., in onn. 1297. 264 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. any gift of land, or of money, to be laid out in the purchase of land for charitable uses, shall be utterly void, unless given by deed executed twelve months be- fore death, and enrolled in Chancery within six months of its execution. In its care against any concealment of a legacy under the guise of a gift, such a trans- action is also to be void unless it be an unconditional unqualified grant to take effect immediately. The State has somewhat relaxed these restrictions in favour of schools and other things recognised as being of ur- gent pubhc concern, but from the early days of which we have spoken, its care against the accumulation of landed estate in the dead hand has been of the most jealous character. Matthew, the Westminster monk, noticing this law in his Chronicle for the year 1280, drily adds that the king and his nobles agreed upon it ' not understanding, haply, that the army of the Amalekites was overthrown rather by the prayers of Moses than by the valour of the children of Israel.' But Thorn,^ the monk of Canterbury, pours forth this lamentation over that limiting statute : ' Alas ! Alas ! How grievous ! Thus hath perished that Hberality so pleasing to God, whereby pious kings, nobles, and the rest of the faithful earnestly desired to found monasteries, to grant estates for the honour of God. Thenceforward this work of charity languisheth ! The rehgious can acquire notliing new, and can scarcely retain what they have already acquired ! ' In the year 1284, by the Statute Circumspecte agatis directions were given to the judges of the King's Court which, under colour of controlhng any interference with the jurisdiction of the bishops' courts, tended to hmit ^ Thorn, Chron. Abb. Aug. Cant., xxix. 9. PARLIAMENT AND THE POPE. 265 their power. By specifying certain suits in the ecclesi- astical courts with which the royal officers were not to interfere, it was not obscurely intimated that the sub- ject might be protected against the bishop's officer in other matters not enumerated. But there was seldom any steady enforcement of the laws in those days, and the ecclesiastical courts little heeded these restraining statutes. The bearing of the king and people of England in the face of papal assumption was in harmony with their legislation. A remarkable incident brings it out in full display. The Scots, reduced to extremity, resolved to follow the example of John of England and purchase security by making Scotland a fief of the pope. Edward was duly warned of the negotiations, and was required ^ to send ambassadors to plead his cause before the pope in person. Edward laid the matter before the full Parhament ^ of the realm, and in its name the answer was returned. The Parhament replied that the kings of England had always exercised authority over Scot- land ; that it had never belonged to the Eoman Church ; and that the kings of England had never answered for their rights before any judge. They were, therefore, resolved that their lord and king should not answer before the pope concerning his Scottish rights. ' They were bound by oath to maintain the hberties, the customs, the laws of England, and they would maintain them with their whole strength. ' We do not permit,' they said, ' we cannot and ought not to permit, we will not permit, our lord and king, even if he were inclined to do it, or if he were to attempt to do it, to submit to demands so unusual, so unjustifiable, so prejudicial.' So Enghshmen were learning at last to speak. But 1 Wilkins, ii. 257. 266 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. in truth when king and people stood together the popes ever recoiled before them. The Papacy only prevailed through national discord. Still it is strange to survey rising above the chafing tide of papal arrogance the very rock of nationahty, the imperial sufficiency of the Crown of England, which can be impleaded in no foreign court, upon which the pope's supremacy made final shipwreck, when more than two hundred years afterwards Clement required Henry YIII. to plead his cause before him. Some of the leading ecclesiastics of the reign of Edward I. may require brief notice. Amongst these John Peckham, Archbishop of Canterbury 1279-1292, must not be omitted. He was a Franciscan, a theo- logian, and a lawyer, known both in Oxford and in Eome. He owed his elevation to the Primacy to the immediate act of the pope, which Edward I. for some reason did not resent. Edward soon found that he had permitted a mere papal official to occupy the first place in his realm. The archbishop held a synod at Eeading, in which, among other provisions, excommunication was pronounced against all who by virtue of the king's writ interfered with persons under ecclesiastical censure, or with the goods or estates of ecclesiastics. Edward was too strong as a sovereign, and in the support of his people, to overlook this audacity. The revocation of this part of the proceedings still remains in the records ^ to the effect that John, Archbishop of Canterbury, appeared before the king and his council in Parliament, and confessed and conceded that the clause touching the king's writ in the provisions of Eeading should be erased and taken as unpronounced — that tlie king's ' Close Rolls ; WilkinS; ii. 40. ARCHBISHOP PECKHAM. 267 officers should not be excommunicated for declining to arrest excommunicated persons, and that certain other invasions of the prerogative should be cancelled. This transaction was referred to in the days of Charles I. as one of the precedents showing the subordination of synods of the Church to Parliament. In a synod held at Lambeth 1281, whose records may be found among the collections of councils,^ many particulars may be seen illustrating the condition of the Church of that age. Amongst these may be noticed how the withdrawal of the cup from the laity was not yet fully consummated. The wine, it seems, was still given to them, but they were to be taught that they received the whole sacrament, both body and blood, under the species of bread ; and that the wine was only administered in order that they might be the better able to swallow the ' sacramental body ' ! This synod ordained that every quarter priests should preach in plain and unscholastic language to the people on the chief articles of faith, the ten commandments, the chief sins and virtues, and on the seven sacraments. Like most other synods of those times it took notice of the moral delinquencies of those who were vowed to re- ligion. It is a subject unpleasant to touch upon, but in the face of great questions which yet he before us it is one that cannot be passed over in silence. The sjmod speaks of ' enormous lust prevailing,' and leading nuns to a wandering hfe. Other characteristic traits will be found in Peckham's contributions by those who recognise in the laws of an age the most sure illustrations of its hfe. The question of the cup in the Eucharist receives illustration from anotlier side in a decree of a diocesan ' Wilkins, ii. 62. 268 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. synod at Exeter^ 1287, which makes clear that the cup was still given to the laity in that diocese. For the laity are to be taught that in order to obviate any fear of idolatry which might occur to them, ' they receive under the species of bread that which hung upon the cross for their salvation, and in the cup they receive that which was shed from the body of Christ.' In all these notices the novelty of the doctrine of transub- stantiation and the withdrawal of the cup decreed in the Council of Later an 1215 may be plainly traced. Peckham was a narrow ecclesiastic, not without learning, but rigid and severe. In Burnell, Bishop of Bath and Wells, Edward found a prelate belonging to the more enhghtened class of that age. He was a sagacious statesman, the personal friend and adviser of the great Edward, and his trusted chancellor. The great legal re- forms, the Act of Mortmain and others, which have been already noted, are in great measure due to this able prelate. The former he carried through Parhament against the influence of the archbishop, who naturally took the side of the monastic orders. Bishop Burnell, himself neither monk nor friar, and a judge in the royal court, rose above mere sectarian or ecclesiastical ideas, and was a moving spirit in the constitutional reforms of that remarkable reign. One stain must be noted as resting on England towards the close of the primacy of Peckham, the special darkness of which has been only realised by the modern conscience within a few years. For the last two centuries the Jews had been permitted to plant settlements in England, and were found in several of the chief cities. In London their synagogue was in the Old Jewry, to which they have bequeathed their name. ' Wilkins, ii. 133. EXPULSION OF THE JEWS. 269 They were placed under the special jurisdiction of the ' Justicer of the Jews.' They had a chief Eabbi, then called their High Priest, under patent from the sove- reign. The reader of ' Ivanhoe ' Avill find a true picture of the treatment they received from time to time at the hand of oppressors. Still they remained, and accu- mulated wealth. Under special charters they were exempted from ordinary taxation, and from this and other well-known causes became odious to the clergy and laity ahke. For the maintenance of their chartered privileges they were thrown on the support of the crown, a support often willingly given in return for large sums extorted in time of necessity, while on their side they knew how in more ordinary times to exact usurious interest. The popular feeling against them rose to its height in 1290, when the House of Commons demanded their expulsion, and a royal proclamation was sent forth commanding their departure from the kingdom. Under penalty of forfeiture of all their goods, they were forbidden to return. This exclusion lasted until the days of the Commonwealth. Doubtless our forefathers thought it an act of faithfulness to the Saviour thus to expel the unbelieving sons of Abraham ; but subsequent kings when in need of loans were com- pelled to deal to less advantage with Jewish financiers abroad, instead of witli those who would have been their own subjects. Moreover, the mercantile hfe of London, which deemed itself freed from rivals by this transaction, must have suffered from the absence of those who had the chief command of the foreign ex- changes. A charter^ of King Jolm appointing one of the Jewish officials above-named runs to the following effect : ^ Collier, Records, xxxii. 270 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. — ' The king to all liis liege subjects both Jewish and English greeting. Know ye that we have granted, and by this present charter have confirmed, to Jacob the Jew of London, presbyter of the Jews, the presbyterate of all the Jews throughout England, to have and to hold it as long as he liveth, freely, quietly, honourably and fully, in such wise that none presume to molest or hinder him. Moreover, we decree that he shall not be called upon to plead concerning any matter pertaining to himself, excepting before ourselves or our chief jus- tice, as the Charter of Eichard our brother testifies. Given by the hands of Hubert, Archbishop of Canter- bury, our Chancellor at Eouen, the 31st day of July, in the first year of our reign.' How much Jacob and his community were called upon to disburse to King John, the archbishop, and all ofiicials who could either advance or impede the exe- cution of this deed does not appear, but may readily be imagined. A very few years before the expulsion of the Jews, Archbishop Peckh am (1282) issued his hcense ^ to the Bishop of London, allowing them to possess one synagogue and no more, provided that it be not adorned with pictures or made too handsome. One of this de- scription, and one only, said the archbishop, might be tolerated without scruple. The succeeding archbishop, Winchelsey, has already been named as attempting to place himself across the path of the great Edward in the matter of supphes, to his signal discomfiture. There is strong ground for thinking that this prelate intrigued with Edward's un- worthy son for the dethronement and imprisonment of the great king. The story is dwelt upon at length by the Chroniclers,^ and they seem to be accordant in its 1 Wilkins, ii. 89. ' Matt. West., ann. 1305. EXILE OF ARCHBISHOP ^VINCHELSEY. 271 main features. Thorn tells it with most detail in his curious Chronicle of the Abbots of St. Augustine, Can- terbury— a chronicle pecuharly interesting as illustrat- ing the intense pride ^ and pleasure taken by the members of those strange corporations in everything belonging to the dignity, the possessions, the privileges conferred on their house by pope, by nobles, and by monarchs. In the long contest for their exclusive pri- vileges the monks of Augustine had been at bitter feud with many an archbishop. Winch elsey ^ had put forth his hand to touch some of the cherished rights of the great abbey, whereupon ensued some tedious appeals to Rome, and no small cost and vexation to the abbot. Thorn gives at great length the story of these oppres- sions, as he deemed them to be, and his pen is dipped in gall when he speaks of Winchelsey. This must be remembered in reading his account of that archbishop's disgrace. Yet it is sufficiently borne out by other au- thorities to render it more than credible. Thus then runs the story as it had been handed down at Canter- bury some three or fourscore years. ' In the year 1305 Archbishop Eobert was accused by the king of treason, in that he had conspired with many of the nobility to dethrone the king and subject him to perpetual im- prisonment, his son Edward being substituted for him in the kingdom. The archbishop was unable to reply ; in utter terror he cast himself on the ground at the king's feet, praying for mercy, weeping, and crying out that he submitted himself to the royal will. Thus was humbled that haughty and hateful man, who liad basely depraved the priesthood, and used unheard-of tyranny to the people. In the same year the pope summoned the archbishop to appear before him and answer the ^ See page 101. » Thorn, xxvii. 30. 272 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. charges laid against him. The archbishop, therefore, sought hcense from the king to cross the sea. The king hearing of his arrival, commanded the doors of the chamber to be thrown open that all might enter who would, and hear the result of the audience. Then the king thus addressed him : " License to cross the sea wilhngly. we grant thee, but license to return grant we or give thee none. We remember the treachery, fraud, and treason which in Parliament at Lincoln thou didst devise with our barons against our royal dignity. Of this the letter sealed with thy seal is a manifest witness against thee. But for the love of the blessed Thomas, and the reverence and honour of the Church over which thou art placed, we thus far defer our vengeance, that we reserve thy punishment for the pope, who, as we beheve and hope, will render to thee thy deserts. But from our protection we utterly exclude thee. We deny thee all grace and mercy ; for unmerciful thou hast always been, therefore, to obtain mercy thou dost not deserve." ' The details of this remarkable incident may be somewhat adjusted as well as amphfied from other accounts. But it is a life-like narration. It seems clear that the king held the letter, the proof of Winchelsey's treason, and that the traitor was crushed. The great Plantagenet towering in moral and kingly dignity, as well as in his remarkable stature, above the prostrate Winchelsey, may well be contrasted with his great grandfather whose unkingly paroxysm of wrath led to the murder of his factious archbishop. Winchelsey went forth into exile. His relations with the pope have been differently represented. But they were changed days for the Papacy. Boniface VIII. , vanquished and dishonoured by the EXILE OF ARCHBISHOP WINCHELSEY. 273 king of France, had recently died. Henceforth the popes were to strive to carry out their assumptions by a skilful alhance with the stronger. Winchelsey was met at the Papal Court by a politic letter from Edward.^ In that letter, after ' devoutly kissing the blessed feet,' Edward charged Winchelsey with being the cause of disgrace, losses, and disturb- ances to him and his kingdom. He then with remark- able pohtical dexterity (whether truly or falsely who shall say ?) declared that Winchelsey, by fomenting intrigues and difficulties, had been the chief hindrance to his undertaking once more the deliverance of the Holy Land, an achievement dear to his own heart as well as to the pope. A more dexterous parry could scarcely be conceived. It certainly was one that might well be delivered by an old Crusader. The exiled archbishop was no Anselm or Becket, and found little sympathy. But his troubles were of no long duration. The king's death soon followed, and the accession of his worthless son, the Second Edward, soon brought about Winchelsey's restoration to his see. If we omit the destruction of the order of the Templars in obedience to a papal bull, which fell to his lot to execute, there is nothing of sufficiently marked impor- tance belonging to the remainder of his archiepiscopate, or to the reign of Edward II., to call for special notice here. If we may trust a letter given by Wharton,''^ Win- chelsey's successor at Canterbury apphed to Pope John XXII. for his canonisation. Certainly he was every way an inferior personage to Becket. Yet he had suffered » Wilkins, ii. 284. ^ Anglia Sacra, i. 173; but see Wilkins, ii. 500, for a differently expressed letter on the same subject. T 274 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. in the same cause — the immunities of the clergy. There- fore, Archbishop Walter wrote to the pope pressing the merits of a man who ' had endured so many adversities, tribulations, anxieties, and straits for the rights and liber- ties of the Church. In protecting the state and liberty of the Church, he had lost his property ; his chaplains and household had been dispersed. He had been com- pelled to go alone on foot like a mendicant. He had been ruined and banished, but had preserved the rights of his Church intact. Nothing was lacking to his true martyrdom, save that the sagacity of the great Edward stopped short of actual murder.' Archbishop Walter vaguely added something about ' innumerable miracles ' which might be set forth. But nothing came of all this. One Becket was enough for Canterbury. St. Eobert was not to be a rival to St. Thomas. Times had already changed. For now the reign of the Third Edward opens up before us a movement in the mind of the English nation which was pregnant with the most far-reaching consequences. Edward HI. came to the throne in 1327, and reigned fifty years. At this time the residence of the popes at Avignon deprived them in no small degree of their title to consideration in the eyes of Europe. They seemed to be French dependants rather than supreme princes of Christendom. In several cases their personal character and extravagances led them still farther to raise a sentiment of actual hostility by the extortion they sanctioned and encroachments they practised on the rights of the national churches. Pre-eminent among these was that system of ' provisions ' against which Grostete,^ Bishop of Lincoln, had already struggled, not without a measure of success. The ' Page 228. PROVISIONS. 275 popes claimed and exercised the power of issuing what was called a provision. This was a document antici- pating the right of a patron, by nominating to a bene- iice not yet vacant some one enjoying the pope's favour, or able to purchase the nomination through a papal official. Thus when the vacancy occurred, the lawful patron found himself barred from the exercise of his leo-al rights. Foreigners, for the most part non-resident, held a large part of the richest benefices. The revenues arising from their lands went to enrich other countries, and countless abuses resulted. One of these provisions,^ addressed to the Abbot of St. Albans, runs thus : ' Innocent, bishop, &c., to his beloved sons, the Abbot and brethren of St. Albans, in the diocese of Lincoln ; health and the apostolic benediction. Wliereas our well- beloved son, John de Camecave, our nephew and chap- lain, holds the Church of Wengrave, the right of presentation to which belongs, as we understand, to you : We, in our paternal affection, beg of you, and by these apostohc letters order you, to exchange the said church for the first one in your presentation which shall become vacant, which the said chaplain or his agent shall think proper to accept, reserving Wengrave for our own gift.' All men feel most deeply wliat comes home to themselves, and the monk of St. Albans, who chronicled the letter which so coolly disposed of two of the livings in the gift of that community, thus speaks of the feelings produced in that famous abbey : ' We have inserted this letter that all may know with what sujQTerings and injuries the Roman Court afflicted us wretched Englisli. Whoever considers the purport of it may find in it contempt, injury, and oppression. ^ Matt. Par., in ann. 1251. 276 fflSTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. Here is the cause why people secede in heart, although not in body, from our father the pope, who is provoked to the austerity of a stepfather ; and also from our mother, the Eoman Church, who vents her fury with the persecutions of a stepmother.' A prolonged but ill-sustained resistance to this system was carried on through several reigns, with but indifferent success, owing in no small degree to the avarice or impolicy of the sovereign playing into the hands of the pope for his own selfish ends. As the reign of Edward III. advanced both king and people, and to a great extent the clergy also, saw their joint interest in staying the encroachment of a foreign power in this respect, and the subject of provisions was vigorously taken in hand. A letter from Edward to the pope is on record, a part of which is to the fol- lowing effect : ^ After a preface of respectful language to the See of Eome, and an acknowledgment of the zeal of former pontiffs in not seeking their own but the things of Jesus Christ, it proceeds to say that ' the kings of England and the nobihty, out of a pious dis- position to promote the service of God, built and en- dowed churches, settling large revenues and privileges upon them, and furnished them with fitting ministers. Thus by care and cultivation the Lord's vineyard flourished. But now, to our great grief, the plants are strangely altered and the fruits degenerated into wild grapes. The wild boar out of the wood doth root it up, and the wild beasts of the field devour it. This is the condition of our Church under the present grievance of provisions, which burden has new weight added to it by the Apostolic See. Thus the encouragements of rehgion are spent upon unworthy persons ; men that ^ Walsiiigliain, Edw. III., ann. 1343. STATUTE OF PROVISOES. 277 neither understand the language of the country nor reside upon their benefices, and want both disposition and abihty to discharge their office. These foreigners, being thus mercenary and unquahfied, the end of the priesthood is lost, and the benefit of religion grows almost insignificant. By this conduct the clergy, our native subjects, persons of great learning and probity, well qualified for the pastoral function, and who might be serviceable to us in our public affairs, are discouraged in their studies through despair of preferment. These things, we are well assured, are displeasing to the Divine will.' There is more to the same effect, and in firm but courteous language a distinct intimation that if the pope will not yield, the King and Parliament of England would provide a remedy. But on this point the Court of Eome never returned any answer beyond vague professions of desire for the good of the Church, and more decided action became necessary. Accordingly the Statute of Provisors ^ was passed in 1350, by which it was decreed that 'in case the pope collated to any see or benefice in disturbance of the rights of patrons, the collation to such dignity or benefice should be forfeited to the crown for that turn. And if anyone should procure such a provision from the pope in disturbance of a patron's rights, he should answer in person, and in case of conviction be imprisoned until he had paid a fine to the crown and made satis- faction to the party aggrieved. He was likewise to renounce all right under the provision, and find surety that he would not repeat the offence, or sue anyone in the court of Rome on any matter arising out of the proceedings.' ^ Stephens on Eng. Constit., vi. 5. 278 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. But ' the majesty of the law ' in those days was seated on a somewhat unstable throne, and history shows that subsequent legislation was needed to confirm or re-establish the force of this statute. To the same period of antipapal legislation in England belongs a brief of Edward III., addressed to Archbishop Sudbury to the following effect : — ' Whereas ^ we have understood that letters and bulls prejudicial to ourselves, our sub- jects, and our realm have been addressed to you from foreign parts ; we, Avishing to take precautions against any injury which might arise from them, command you to transmit any such documents to us and our council immediately on their reception. We and our council having thereupon read and examined them, shall take further action as shall seem to us just. From pubHsh- ing or carrying into effect any such writings you and all ecclesiastical persons shall surcease at your peril, save in so far as you may receive it in command from us or our council.' The archbishop rephed,^ acknow- ledging the king's mandate and promising that he would ' obey the same reverently in all respects as it became him to do.' This Act was followed by others in 1363 and 1390, confirming and extending its enactments. In order still further to secure the position of the officials and others who should resist papal provisions under the Statute of Pro visors, the first statute of prasmunire was passed in 1353. But it is the fuller form of this law which was passed 1393, in the reign of Eichard II., that is commonly known as the Statute of Praemunire. This Act decreed that ' whoever ^ procured at Eome or elsewhere any translations, processes, excommunica- tions, bulls, instruments, or other things, which touched 1 Wilkins, iii. 107. 2 ^^^^^^ ^^ iqq 3 Blackstone. STATUTE OF PR^MUNIEE. 279 the king, his crown, and reahn, and all persons aiding and assisting therein, should be put out of the king's protection, their lands and goods forfeited to the king's use, and they should answer in person to the king and his council.' The future course of history may be so far anticipated as to note with what crushing effect Henry VIII. brought this statute to bear upon Cardinal Wolsey and the whole body of the Enghsh clergy, when at last he determined on breaking the papal power in England. It may also not be out of place to observe that subsequent legislation placed several other offences against the dignity or crown of England under the same statute. Thus, for example, were a dean ^ and chapter to decline to elect to a vacant bishopric the person nominated by the crown, they would be subject to the penalties of this statute, and incur a prcemunire. The name of the statute '^ is taken from the words of the writ preparatory to its execution, Prcemunire facias A.B. It is said that prcemunire was used in law Latin for proemonere or citare. If it be asked how far these statutes accomplished the desired result, it must be replied that the degree in which they were enforced varied greatly during the troubled years which followed in England. They were in fact played with according to supposed exigencies by the statesmen of those times. But they were not a dead letter. An archbishop of Canterbury in the days of Henry YI. could decline the suggestion of the pope that he should endeavour to obtain the repeal of ' that execrable statute ; ' and in the face of a bull of sus- pension ^ refused to consecrate a nominee of the pope to the see of Ely. In the earher days of the existence 1 25 Hen. VIII., c. 20. ^ Blaclistoue, b. iv. c. 8. 3 Ibid. 280 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. of these statutes they struck at one of the greatest of the prelates of that age, WiUiam Courtenay/ Bishop of London, the same who withstood John of Gaunt when he was the champion of WycHffe in St. Paul's — the same who as archbishop suppressed LoUardism in Oxford. The Florentines were then among the greatest merchants of Europe, and falhng under the pope's displeasure on account of some Italian rivalries, he had issued a bull against them. Courtenay presumed with- out royal license to have the bull read at Paul's Cross. The Florentine warehouses in London were thus laid open to robbery, and the Lord Mayor intervened with the king (Edward III.) on their behalf. The bishop of London was at once brought under a prgemunire. He must either forfeit his temporalities, or recall the bull. He chose the latter, and went through the humihation of instructing his deputy, not merely to repudiate the bull but to deny that he had proclaimed it. He ex- pressed surprise that so great a misunderstanding of his words should have arisen. But if these statutes were occasionally put in force, it is equally easy to point out occasions on which they were flagrantly violated. For example we may point to the election of Kemp to the see of London in 1421, as an instance on the other side. The chapter of St. Paul's elected Polton, Bishop of Hereford. By an intrigue between the pope and the-crown, this was set aside by a notification from the pope that he had already by provision translated Kemp, Bishop of Chichester, to the vacant see. So httle faithful to the liberties and laws of the realm were their appointed guardians when it suited their purpose to permit such violations. Yet another instance may be brought forward from 1 Milman, Annals of St. Paul's, p. 75. SUBSEQUENT HISTORY OF PROVISIONS. 281 another quarter, which may show how faithful even in early times were the judges of England to their trust when they were left free to fulfil their legal instincts. Chicheley, when appointed Bishop of St. David's, claimed the privilege of retaining a certain prebend in Sahsbury Cathedral. Having to answer ^ in the king's court on this matter, he pleaded that ' St. Peter the Apostle by his bulls granted him hcense to enjoy all other benefices.' ' The grant of the apostle,' said the Chief Justice, ' can- not change the law of the land.' 'Papa omnia potest,' rephed Chicheley's counsel. The Chief Justice declined to enter on any such matter. ' Neither will I,' said he, ' enter upon a question as to the power of an apostle ; all I can say is, that I cannot see how he, by any bull of his, can change the law of England.' It is well known that the Papal Court never draws back from any claim to power which has once been asserted. It never aban- doned the ground it had assumed in the matter of pro- visions, however little able to enforce them. Even when a sovereign before the Eeformation was strong enough to make his will respected, and secure the elec- tion by the chapters and the confirmation by the pope of the prelate he might please to nominate, the Eoman document confirming the appointment still assumed the form of a provision. In modern days the exercise of this power has reduced the Eoman Catholic hierarchy, in all countries where it has lost the support and alliance of the State, into the mere creature of the papal will. The modern Eoman bishop is appointed and exists at the nod of the pope. And in the most recent times, ultramontanism — that is the most extreme view of the papal infallibility and despotism — has succeeded inbrand- ^ Hook, Lives, v. 23 ; from the Year Books, Hen. IV. 282 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. ing as Gallicanism the last vestiges of the independence of national churches which yet survived, and in making the Eoman Church absolutely and distinctively papal throughout its organisation. That the great interests of rehgion, both practical and doctrinal, were intimately connected with all these questions must be clear to the most thoughtless reader. Yet the shape which Church questions assumed during the centuries which have passed under survey has for the most part resulted from the struggles consequent on the encroachments of papal authority on the national independence in Church and State. Deeply rooted in that remote past he the foundations of our Enghsh liberties. The royal or feudal tyranny, the papal des- potism, the liberties of the chartered trading cities, the turbulent intellectual hfe of the universities, nay the vis inertice of the mere monastic multitude as distin- guished from their more learned brethren, made their weight felt in different proportions, and at different times. But from their continuous interplay, and the eddies of their surging counter-currents, the mighty stream of English thought at length took form and direction, and rushed onward in that ever-widening flood which has borne on with it the hberties of the human race. The national movement in an anti-papal direction has been the main object so far in the consideration of this period of history. It is so important in itself and in its consequences, that to deal with it somewhat as a whole must tend to clearness. But there are other events and other persons belonging to the same era demanding notice. There is a question which can only be touched. How far in those medigeval times Christianity was a ARCHBISHOP BRADWARDINE. 283 living power in the hearts of men ; and how far, though marred in its fair proportions and disfigured by baser accretions, it could bring salvation to the troubled conscience and purity to the life, is indeed a question that outweighs those transitory struggles. He who would answer it must search into the remains of Chris- tian biography and other records of the inner life of those times. For such a review there is not space in these hmited pages. But in this reign of Edward III. arose the first distinctly religious movement which stirred the dead surface of medieval Christianity. The life and teaching of John WyclifFe will raise other considerations than those of contested patronage and papal taxation. The gravity of the issues, and the extent and permanence of the results involved in that movement, demand and mil receive consideration as a whole in a separate chap- ter. But in this place ought to be noticed a few of the leading prelates of the period under review. Among great ecclesiastics of the reign of Edward III., Stratford, Archbishop of Canterbury 1333-1348, must claim a distinguished place, but as the great minister of state rather than the divine. He had an important share in the conduct of the financial and diplomatic business connected with the French wars in that eventful reign. But if he was a statesman rather than a churchman, his successor, Thomas Bradwardine, the Doctor Profundus among the schoolmen, was as dis- tinctly and eminently a theologian as well as a mathe- matician. Bradwardine found an editor in the reign of James I. in the person of Sir Henry Savile, who pub- hshed his principal work, ' On the Cause of God against Pelagius,' a formidable foHo of 900 pages. Those who have examined this book seem deeply impressed by its fearless logic, as well as its grasp of principles, though 284 fflSTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. it is disfigured to the modern reader by its hard scho- lastic style. As described by the Church historian Milner, who has analysed it with care, it is an exposition of the doc- trines of St. Augustine on grace, freewill, and predes- tination ; topics which naturally led him to treat also at length the nature of the Divine Being, His will. His knowledge, and the relation of these to the human will. He does not hesitate to charge the received scholastic doctrine of that age, at least in its results, with Pelagianism : ' Almost the whole world,' he says, 'is gone after Pelagius into error.' The doctrine of human merit as taught by the schools, and as repudiated in the 12th and 13th Articles of the Eeformed Church of England, meets with his most vigorous censure. These high doctrines, however, remained locked up in the abstruse dialect of the schools. When brought forth two centuries later by the movement of the Eeforma- tion into the debates of the market-place, they stirred men's minds as they have seldom been stirred before or since. In the days of Bradwardine men were for the most part content to wonder and pass by. The Nun's Priest in Chaucer, a few years later, said, as most men said, of this deep doctrine : — But I ne cannot bolt it to the bran, As can the holy doctor Augustin, Or Boece, or the bishop Bradwardin, Whether that Godd^s worthy fore-witting Straineth me needly for to do a thing, Or else if the free choice be granted me To do that same thing, or to do it not, Though God fore- wot it 'ere that it was wrought, Or if His witting straineth never a deal, But by necessity conditional I will not have to do of such matter. But though the world in general could only wonder, ARCHBISHOP BRADWARDINE. 285 it may well be thought that one who entered Oxford a very few years after that part of Bradwardine's course was run may have been drawn in no small measure to the Scriptural basis which he required for all doctrine by the teaching of the great doctor profundus^ the most recent glory of the University. The dates at least will suggest this, for WyclifFe entered Oxford about 1340, and Bradwardine died in 1349. His archiepiscopate was brief indeed. Having been consecrated at Avignon, he landed at Dover August 19, and died of the plague then raging in England August 26. He was one of the few men of great eminence in those days whose names have come down to us without a stain of worldliness or wrong. When chaplain to Edward III. in his French wars, his influence with the king and the soldiers was that of a Christian. Loved and honoured in his own days, he could also draw from the Protestant historian Milner the eulogium that he was ' a studious, thoughtful scholar of the fourteenth century ; who, unaided by human connections in an age dark and unpromising throughout Europe, and in our own island full of darkness, seems to have hved the life of faith in the Son of God.' Such an one was no common man. In the days of his successor, Islip, the Statute of Provisors noticed in this chapter was passed to check the encroachments of the Eoman See. In the same archiepiscopate the old question of the privileges of the clergy and their exemption from civil jurisdiction was again raised, and will receive abundant illustration from the following records. Archbishop Ishp endeavoured to meet the prevailincf complaints about the scandalously lenient treatment which clerical offenders received, by the constitution of 286 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. which the following is an abstract : ^ ' Lately in the Parliament at London, at our instance, an endeavour was made to stop injuries inflicted on the Church, at which we could not connive. Secular judges had pre- sumed to thrust in their sickle into the divine harvest. They had presumed to apprehend even priests, and, notoriously exceeding their jurisdiction, had proceeded against them when indicted for various crimes. They had usurped a power over the anointed of the Lord which was not theirs, and, contrary to the sacred canons and the privileges of the Church, have most shamefully condemned them to death. They have done this under the pretext that clergy, under the cover of their privi- lege, have been emboldened to perpetrate crime. They have said that criminals of this class, duly convicted before the secular judge, have been claimed by the ecclesiastical authorities in due course. They assert that clerical offenders so surrendered have been dealt with by so lenient an imprisonment, and so luxuriously fed, that prison has been no punishment to them, but rather ease and refreshment, in which evil thoughts have nourished their vices. They say, moreover, that notorious and infamous offenders are readily admitted to do penance, and are then liberated. Thus the vicious clergy proceed from bad to worse, and those who have not offended are tempted by the prospect of immunity from punishment to fall into sin, and the peace of the realm is violated. ' Weighing these grave matters, and fearing lest the privileges of the clergy should suffer loss through abuses which tend to a breach of the pubhc tranquillity, by the advice and consent of our brethren, we ordain, with regard to the custody of such clergy, that all 1 Wilkius, iii. 13. CLERICAL CRIMINALS. 287 ecclesiastical persons who liave jurisdiction in that respect shall keep such criminals in strict imprisonment, having due regard to their rank and quality and the gravity of their offences. They must not be suffered to return to their former life, and if they be notorious malefactors, or if their liberation would be a scandal to the realm, then twice on holidays and once on Satur- days shall they be fed with bread of grief and water of affliction, but on the Lord's day with bread, small beer, and pulse. Nor shall any liberation be permitted to them. ' With regard to offenders of less heinous character, we require that strict inquisition be made into their manner of life before proceedings be taken for their release. Dated at Lambeth, February 18, 1351.' ' He has confessed,'- the reader may well say who follows such an ordinance. The Constitutions of Claren- don stand vindicated beside the archbishop's words, and the quarrel in which Becket died comes out in its full deformity. Such efforts for reform failed, if it were only for the multiplicity of jurisdictions which it was attempted to regulate. Bishops, archdeacons, abbots, and other minor potentates had their special rights and immunities. Eesponsibility indefinitely divided ceased to be recognised. Educated villany is in modern times the most difficult to detect and to keep in restraint. In old times the clergy had almost a monopoly of the offences which could come under this description. We learn from letters patent of Edward III.,^ dated February 20, 1352, that one of the archbishop's complaints had been that clerks convicted of counterfeiting the coin or privy seal of the realm liad not been surrendered to the ' Wilkiu8, iii. 28. 288 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. Church. The king ordamed that he would hold the matter in suspense until it could be fully debated in the next Parliament, but that meanwhile no clerk so con- victed should be executed, but kept in close imprison- ment, without surrender to the ecclesiastical authorities. The English people never believed in the efficient execution of such ordinances as those of Archbishop Ishp. These invidious exceptions, and the commonly believed culpable laxity of the ecclesiastical courts to- wards clerical malefactors, will follow us to the very eve of the Eeformation. It will be seen that the discovery of the real animus of the people towards the ecclesiastics, and the first encounter of the clergy with the royal power in the reign of Henry YIII., must be traced to the terrible death of Richard Hunne in the prison of the Bishop of London, and to the arrogant assertion of clerical privileges in connection with the subsequent proceedings. It was a secondary purpose of the bishops' prisons, though one which the unhappiness of future years made but too prominent, that persons accused of heresy were there incarcerated. The primary and necessary purpose was to receive those clerical male- factors who were handed over by the secular courts to the bishop. When it is remembered how exceedingly numerous were those who, in virtue of some of the lower of the seven orders of the Roman Church, could claim clerical privilege, it may well be thought that bishops' prisons needed to be kept in good repair and custody if ordinary justice was to be done. That it was not done, and that these private prisons were fearfully abused, our forefathers believed. Indeed to the modern thought the very idea of separate jurisdiction and private prison stands utterly condemned as inconsistent with the first principles of justice and of freedom. ECCLESIASTICAL STATESMEN. 289 The name of Langham/ Islip's successor at Canter- bury 1367, may introduce a list of names illustrating the degree in wliicli the clergy held the public adminis- tration in their hands. Archbishop Langham was lord chancellor, the bishop of Bath and Wells lord treasurer, the archdeacon of Lincoln keeper of the privy seal. Another arch- deacon was chancellor of the exchequer. It would be wearisome to recite the remainder of the lonjx clerical roll of state officers. Passing on only two or three years to the days of Whittlese}^ the succeeding archbishop, a momentary reaction against this clerical regime arose. Times had changed. There were mihtary reverses in France. Supplies were urgently demanded for the war, and Parliament met, 1371, in grave discontent with the administration. They complained that ' the government of the kingdom had been managed for a long time by men of Holy Church, whereby great mischiefs and damages have happened in times past, and more may happen in time to come.' They accordingly petitioned the king ' that a provision be made in form of law to prevent such inconvenience for the future, and that none but laymen may be capable of the offices of chancellor, treasurer, clerk of the privy seal, barons of the exchequer, and other great civil officers.' The king gave an evasive reply, but the experiment was made, and laymen were placed in tlie liigh offices of chan- cellor,'^ treasurer, and privy seal. Whether they were unequal to their duties, or whether counter-influence was too strong for tliem, or whatever other reason may be assigned, in no long time the bishop of St. David's became chancellor, and afiairs proceeded in their old ' Collier, lii. \2>^. ^ Walsingham, Hypodig, Neus^., ann. 137L U 290 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. course. For this there was a twofold necessity. Not yet could there be found outside the ranks of the clergy a sufficient number of educated men with competent learning to conduct the business of the realm. But beside and beyond this the revenues were insufficient to provide adequate salaries to maintain these great officers of state. It was deemed cheaper to reward pubhc services with good preferment in the Church. Successful diplomacy, or legal work, was yet for many a year to obtain its remuneration by the gift of rich rectories, or yet higher preferment. That this process secularised the Church, and turned its ablest men and its best endowments almost entirely away from their legitimate use, was seen and lamented by men of more spiritual insight, and led in no small degree to the ex- tremes to which WycHffe went in his denunciations of clerical wealth. But the remedy was not found yet. When it was found, the Church of the sixteenth century had to surrender a large portion of that wealth which had been with difficulty tolerated in the preceding centuries because of the public burdens which were thrown upon it to sustain. The early days of the young king Eichard II. were clouded by the reverses which befell the English forces in France. Struggling in vain to hold the foreign pos- sessions of the crown, they left the coasts of England open to invasion. This led to a new view of the Church mihtant. A mandate addressed to his clergy by Arch- bishop Sudbury in 1377, the year of the death of Edward III., sounds the note of alarm thus : ^ ' We have received a royal letter to the following effect : — Our enemy of France with his adherents, threatening 1 Wilkins.iii. 119. ALARMS OF INVASION. 291 great evils against us and our lieges, has assembled a large force both of ships and men. They have attacked and burned many towns on the coast, and strive utterly to ruin our Church and kingdom. We have, therefore, summoned all available men between the ages of sixty and sixteen in all the counties, to appear armed in array and to be in readiness to repel invasion wherever it may appear. You and the rest of the prelates and the whole clergy are bound to bring a helping hand for the safety of the Church and realm. We, therefore, enjoin on your fidelity, all abbots, priors, monks, and all other ecclesiastics of your diocese, to take arms in due array, and provide for the defence of their several possessions. You shall take care that they be arrayed in thousands, hundreds, and twenties, that they may be ready to march at your command, with our other heges, against our enemies. This command, as you bear love to us, to our honour and your own, and to the safety of the Holy Church and our kingdom, you shall not fail to observe.' The archbishop accordingly proceeds to en- join his clergy in the strictest manner to carry out tlie royal injunction. It was of old, then, as it is now. Party feuds and dissensions may sever man from man, but at the cry of danger to England, party disappears, and a nation only is recognised. It might have been thought that the fiery cross could only thus summon a Higliland clan. But in the England of Crecy and Poictiers, when king and archbishop sounded the alarm, the monks of St. Augustine could stand in array with the armed citizens of Canterbury for hearths and for altars. A difierent note had been sounded tliroucrh the Churches of Ensfland but twenty-one years before. News had come of the Black Prince's great victory at Poictiers, and Edward u 2 292 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. thus wrote to the Bishop of Exeter : ^ — ' Just and mar- vellous in His works, disposing the wishes of His ser- vants with inscrutable wisdom, God botli prevents and follows us, as we most humbly acknowledge He hath often done with us. It was in the fear of God that we prosecuted our claim to the throne of France which by rightful succession had devolved upon us. Peaceful overtures having failed, with the hope of celestial suc- cour we undertook a just war in vindication of our rights. In carrying on that war, the Lord of Lords, Jesus Christ, hath prevented us with glory and victories. In the abundance of His goodness, continuing His mercy, He hath dealt most gloriously and marvellously with our eldest son Edward, Prince of Wales. Through God's grace, after various successes, on the 19th day of Sep- tember last, there met him near Poictiers with a large army John de Valois, the unjust occupier of the throne. A great battle followed ; but justice looking down from heaven and not permitting injustice to prevail, gave the said John into our son's hand. Many nobles were also taken, and a great slaughter of the enemy ensued with trifling loss on our part. We rejoice not in that loss of human life, but contemplating the divine mercy poured forth around us our son and his army, and hoping for the blessing of a speedy peace, we rejoice in the Lord. We humbly offer the sacrifice of praise for so many and so great gifts to us and ours. We, therefore, ask you from our heart to offer devout thanks, prayers, and other works of piety for ourselves and tlie prince and our faithful soldiers. In treat the Giver of temporal and eternal feUcity that this season of promise may issue in the wished-for success, and that the Almighty will enable us so to rule our temporal kingdom, that all may ' Willdns, iii. 36. DEATH OF EDWAED m. 293 tend to its good and quietness, and that after this hfe we may obtain the everlasting prize.' It would be superfluous to criticise the policy, the language, or the piety of this document, or to ask which of the royal clerical scribes drew it up. Nor need the episcopal circular ^ be quoted in which thanksgiving services were ordered to be performed. It is sufficient to note the pulse of joy which vibrated through the Churches of England when the news of that wonderful victory arrived. The transition was the more bitter when that era of victory had closed, and clergy and laity were called upon to keep watch and ward against the violation of their own coasts. Thus it was in gloom and uncertainty that the long and glorious reign of Edward III. ended. The old king's last years were swayed by an evil woman, or were the sport of faction. The Black Prince, the hero and the darhng of the nation, lay under his canopy in the Cathedral of Canterbury. The glories of Crecy and Poictiers were indeed memories that could never die ; but their territorial results had almost vanished. A young child was the heir of the Plantagenet race. The Lollards were shaking the old system to its foundations. A man need not be timorous who should dread what might be coming upon England, when at last the victorious sword ^ of Edward was hung over his tomb in Westminster Abbey. A long century of trouble and woe, of foreign war and domestic strife, was yet to intervene. Changes and discoveries undreamed of before were to prepare the way. Then, at last, tlie foreign ecclesiastical despotism should cease to bear sway in England. 1 Wilkins, iii. 37. ^ Stanley, Memorials of Wesfmimtei' Abbey, p. 141. 294 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. CHAPTER XI. WYCLIFFE AND THE LOLLARDS. The period has now been reached when the deeper mysteries of rehgion itself, and not merely the State precautions of provisors and prcemunire, began to agi- tate men's minds. Hitherto, whatever views men may have taken of papal encroachments, and the hmitations to which the supreme power of the pontiff might be subjected, scarcely a voice had been heard raising the fundamental doubt whether that power was in itself a usurpation, and whether the doctrine of the schools could be harmonised with the teaching of the Word of God. One deathless name and one illustrious life will raise all these questions — questions which from that day to this have divided Christendom. That name and that life are those of John WychfFe. Let Knighton ^ (or whoever wrote under that name), a contemporary opponent, tes- tify to the opinion of his own age : . ' As a doctor in theology he was the most eminent in those days ; in philosophy second to none ; and in scholastic learning incomparable. He made it his great aim, with the sub- tilty of his learning, and by the profundity of his own genius, to surpass the genius of other men and to vary from their opinions.' The hfe of Wychffe reaches from about 1324 to 1384, and some of the principal dates of his personal history within that period may be thus enumerated.''^ 1 De Eventihus Ang., col. 2644, ed. 1652. ^ Shirley, Fasc. Ziznn., p. xiii. CHARACTER OF WYCLIFFE. 295 He is said to have entered the University of Oxford in 1340, and to have been head of BaUiol College in 1361. He took the degree of Doctor of Divinity at some time between 1362 and 1372 ; and lectured in Oxford with great vigour and attractiveness. In 1374 he was em- ployed in diplomatic service, and after great peril in subsequent years from episcopal and papal proceedings, retired to Lutterworth about 1381, where he died not long afterwards. It is, perhaps, scarcely possible that any attempt to give a summary account of the work and opinions of so great a man should escape the charge of crudeness and dogmatism. The popular estimate of him is pro- bably more true and accurate than the partial judg. ments of writers who have regarded him too much from their own point of view, and have shown themselves unable to appreciate the results of his peculiar training, tlie gradual evolution and growth of his opinions, and his relation to the spirit of the times in which he hved. The chief writers of the subsequent age regard him with unmeasured dishke as a heretic condemned by popes and council. Since the Eeformation, until the labours of Dr. Vaughan, Professor Shirley, Sir F. Madden, and others in our own times, httle had been done to elu- cidate his history so as to display the true growth of his intellectual life and opinions. He has, therefore, been charged with inconsistencies and otlier faults, and, hke Cranmer in a later age, has been subjected to many unfair criticisms to which the chronology of his mental history furnishes the true reply. Milner,^ the Church historian, for example, seems unable to understand the true greatness of his character, and ventures to hint that for personal safety he ' made sacrifices inconsistent ^ Hist, of Churchy c. iii. cent. xiv. 296 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. with a direct and open sincerity.' He charges him with ' sophistical methods of argument, and such evasive modes of speech as are very incompatible with the con- duct of a pious Eeformer.' To expect that a great schoolman should abandon his scholastic methods when arguing with scholastics, or to insist that a man stand- ing before a tribunal where his hfe is in danger shall categorically expound the full meaning of his doctrinal teaching, seems the essence of pedantic narrowness. It has generally been thought an instance of not unsanc- tified or unlawful subtlety when St. Paul, in an assembly fortuitously united against himself, divided ^ it, by an- nouncing himself as ' a Pharisee, the son of a Pharisee.' Dean Hook,^ notwithstanding his strong ecclesiastical sympathies, deals out fairer measure when he says : ' John Wycliffe may be justly accounted one of tlie greatest men that our country has produced. He is one of the very few who have left the impress of their minds, not only on their own age, bat on all time. He it was who first, in the Middle Ages, gave to faith its subjective character. . . . His next step was to maintain that the only proof, by which we can estabhsh a dis- puted proposition in revealed rehgion, must be deduced from the Bible. . . . Therefore the Bible must be trans- lated, and he translated it.' In the judgment of Dean Milman,^ beside his various erudition and academic fame, there is this to be added : ' The vigour and energy of his genius, his perspicacity, the force of his language, his mastery over the vernacular English, the high su- premacy which he vindicated for the Scriptures, which by immense toil he promulgated in the vulgar tongue — these were his own, to be learned in no school, to be attained by none of the ordinary courses of study. As ^ Acts xxiii, 0. ^ Yq] jj^ ^ \^ 3 j^cLtin Christianity, xiii. 6. WYCLIFFE AND THE MENDICANTS. 297 with his contemporary Chaucer rose Enghsh Poetry in its strong homely breadth and humour, in the wonderful dehneation of character with its finest shades, in its plain, manly good sense and feeling ; so was Wycliffe the father of English Prose, rude but idiomatic, bib- heal in much of its picturesque phraseology, at once highly coloured by, and colouring, the translation of the Scriptures.' When WychfTe became known to fame as the un- sparing opponent of the mendicant orders, he found some of the most powerful sections of the clergy with him. The causes have already been noticed which had led to the power, and also to the unpopularity, of those orders. In the days of WychfFe they were still produc- ing some men of ability and occupying high places in the Church, but they were as a whole incurably corrupt, and in attacking them Wycliffe was in accordance with strong popular feeling. His treatise against friars occa- sionally reflects the sarcasm, with which Chaucer, his contemporary, depicts the begging friar, when, after his sermon in a Yorkshire church : — He went his way, no longer would he rest With scrip and tipped staif ytuck^d high : In every house he gan to pore and pry, And begged meal and cheese, or els6 corn, — promising the prayers of his convent for all contributors, whose names were ostentatiously written on a tablet carried by liis comrade. But alas for the promised prayers ! — For when that he was out at door, anon He planed away the nam^s every one, That he before had written in his tables, He served them with nifles and with fables. 298 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. But WyclifFe took a higher stand than this, for he discussed from the hfe of the Saviour, and the Apostles, the Scriptural grounds on which the whole theory of the mendicant rehgious life should stand condemned. In this part of the contest of Wycliffe's Hfe he had an illustrious predecessor in Eichard Fitz-Ealph, com- monly known as Armachanus, from the dignity to whicli he attained as archbishop of Armagh in 1347. This prelate carried on a long and vigorous controversy with the mendicant friars, even travelling to Avignon to re- monstrate with the pope in person against their prac- tices and their exorbitant privileges. Walsingham,^ the monastic chronicler of St. Alban's, a bitter opponent of Wycliffe, thus shows the feeling of the regular monks against the upstart friars, and the notion generally current about the purity of the Papal Court : — ' Armachanus maintained his opinions as to the friars before the chief pontiff strenuously and long. He proved abundantly that they had deviated from their own rules. But at length, alas ! the Enghsh clergy withdrew their support, the wealth of the friars pre- vailed in the Papal Court, and they obtained a confirma- tion of their ]3rivileges.' An act of Pope Urban Y. was the means of bringing out WyclifFe into pubhc life. Urban demanded the arrears of the tribute to which John had subjected the kingdom, and now remaining unpaid for many years. Wycliffe, who was already, apparently, a royal chaplain, was called into council, and was appointed one of the king's commissioners to confer on this matter, at Bruges, with the delegates of Gregory XL, who had now suc- ceeded Urban. The issue of these negociations shows how far the Papacy had now retrograded. The pope, ^ Walsing-liam, in ami. 1367. THE POPE AS VICAR OF CHRIST. 299 indeed, surrendered none of his supposed rights, but he remitted all existing claims and suits then pending in relation to provisions and other papal extortions. The king, on his side, maintained all the restrictive legislation which had been directed against the pope. It seems that both the study of the papal claims thus forced upon WyclifTe, and the nearer view w^liich he now obtained of the corruption of the Papacy, led him, henceforth, to a more distinct perception of its lack of a Scriptural and historical basis. Before this, he avowed himself ' a lowly and obedient son of the Eoman Church,' intent, indeed, on necessary reforms, but nothing more. We may afterwards hear him re- plying to a papal citation in words Avhich do not fall short of Luther's plain speaking. ' The pope,' ^ said he, ' is called the highest vicar that Christ hath here on earth ; and the highness of a vicar of Christ is not to be measured by worldly highness, but in this, that he fol- loweth Christ more than other men in virtuous living — for thus the Gospel teacheth. . . . Beyond this, I beheve that no man should follow the pope, no, nor any saint that is in heaven, except inasmuch as he shall follow Christ. . . . This, also, I take to be wholesome counsel, that the pope should leave his worldly lordships to worldly lords, as Christ did, and that he speedily see to it that all his clergy do the same, for so did Christ, and so taught his disciples, till the fiend came who hath blinded this world. . . . Our })ope will not, I suppose, show himself Anti-Christ, by working contrary to the will of Christ. For if, by himself or by any of his, he will summon against reason and persist in it, he is an open Anti-Christ.' A man who had this gift of plain speaking, wlio 1 Vaiighaii,p. 3i^l. 300 HISTOEY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. could sway the learned world of Oxford with the use of their own scholastic methods, as well as give emphatic expression to some of the chief grievances of the Com- mons of England, was a power not easy to deal with. To Avhat extent the country was prepared to go with him, or rather to what extent he reflected the opinions of his countrymen, may be gathered from the Preamble to the petition of the so-called ' good Parliament,' Avhich met in 1376. They declared that the ecclesiastical dues paid to the Court of Eome amounted to ' five times more than is paid to the king from the whole produce of the realm.' — Tor money, the brokers of that sinful city, Eome, promote many caitiffs, being altogether unlearned and unworthy, to a thousand marks living yearly, the learned and worthy can hardly obtain twenty marks, whereby learning decayeth. Aliens and enemies to their land, who never saw, nor come to see, their pa- rishioners, having those livings whereby they despise God's service, convey away the treasure of the realm, and are worse than Jews or Saracens.' ' God hath given his sheep to the pope to be pastured, and not to be shorn or shaven : lay-patrons, perceiving the simony and covetousness of the pope, do thereby learn to sell their benefices to mere brutes, no otherwise than Christ was sold to the Jews.' . . . ' The pope's collector, and other strangers, the king's enemies, and only spies for Enghsh dignities, disclosing the secrets of the realm, ought to be discharged.' ' The said collector keepeth a house in London, with clerks and oflices thereto belong- ing, as if it were one of the king's regular courts, trans- porting yearly to the pope twenty thousand marks, and commonly more ; cardinals and other aliens remaining at the Court of Eome, whereof one is dean of York, another of Sahsbury, another of Lincoln, another arch- PARLIAMENT AND TPIE POPE. 801 deacon of Canterbury, another of Durham, another of Suffolk, another of York — another is prebendary of Thame and Massingdon, another prebendary of York — all these and divers others have the best dignities in England, and have sent over to them yearly twenty thousand marks : that the pope to ransom Frenchmen, the king's enemies, who defend Lombardy for him, doth also at his pleasure levy a subsidy from the whole clergy of England . . . that the pope's collector hath this year taken to his use the first fruits of all benefices . . . that there are now thirty cardinals instead of twelve as wont to be, and all the said thirty cardinals, except two or three, are the king's enemies.' So spake the English Parliament in 1376. Crecy and Poictiers had raised the martial fame of England in that great reign to the highest pinnacle. But the cost to the kingdom of those prolonged French wars had been most exhausting in blood and treasure. The king, like his grandfather, was compelled by his neces- sities to throw himself on the liberality of his subjects, and the House of Commons Avas not slow to learn and to use its power. Little as it might understand of the great rehgious principles involved, or of the true notion of religious liberty or of the gospel hfe, this much it saw — one of the hated Frenchmen was pope and held his court on French soil at Avignon. They were spending Hfe and treasure in a glorious but costly warfare, and French ecclesiastics were draining away yearly from the realm enormous sums which were de- clared to be greater in amount tlian the whole of the royal revenue. No wonder that the ' good Parliament ' should recommend that ' no papal collector or proctor should remain in England upon pain of life and limb, and that no Englishman, on tlie like pain, should become 302 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. such collector or proctor, or remain at the court of Eome.' The tmie was to come for this, but not yet. The rehgious liberty must dawn before the financial plunder and the shameful foreign dependence should cease. It would be a mistake to suppose that the Enghsh Church was altogether opposed to such sentiments as these. Through the larger part of this period of our history the leading statesmen and administrators were ecclesiastics. Indeed, the great officers of state, diplo- matists and others, were commonly supported by Church preferments, bestowed upon them for maintenance or reward for services. Such men frequently heartily concurred with the Commons, and even were willing to lead their 'action, in the continual efibrts of these centuries to place legislative checks upon the rapacity of papal extortion. Nor was it likely that the clergy, compelled to contribute in Convocation largely to the king's necessities, should accept with equanimity the growing demands of the papal officials. To a great extent Wycliffe may thus be regarded as having the nation with him. But he had already transgressed the bounds Avhich the bishops felt they could safely overlook, and the year after the ' good Par- hament,' 1377, he was summoned to appear before Con- vocation in St. Paul's to answer for heretical opinions. Wycliffe was supported by John of Gaunt, and the only result was a riot. It may be that Courtenay, then bishop of London, who presided, and was rather a pohtician than a divine, had no wish to push the matter to extremities. The same year Edward III. died, and the young Eichard II. succeeded. The difficulties of a regency, and other political complications, drew men's minds from doctrinal differences to which, indeed, they PEOCEEDINGS AGAINST WYCLIFFE. 303 were scarcely yet awake, and Wycliffe seems to have been subjected for some time to no public proceedings. Indeed the first Parliament of Eichard II., 1377, trod in the steps of its predecessor and insisted on more rigorous proceedings against all papal provisions, as well as the expulsion of ahens, religious or other, from the realm, and the use of their property in carrying on the French war. It is even said ^ that the case was submitted to the judgment of Wycliffe himself how far such an application of funds drawn from England by French ecclesiastics was lawful. Wychffe argued the question partly on grounds of reason, and partly on deductions from Scripture. He urged that the nation, clergy and people, is one body, to which God had given the land and its treasures for its own use, benefit, and support, and it must therefore be lawful for it to detain its own treasure for defence in case of necessity. He then argued from Scripture that lordship and dominion were forbidden to the Apostles, and could be no part of the heritage of those who claimed to succeed them. ' If thou be a lord,' said he, ' thou shalt lose thine apostleship ; or if thou wilt be an apostle, thou shalt lose thy lordship : for truly thou slialt depart from the one of them.' The man who had taken so prominent a place in the antipapal ranks was by this time marked at the Papal Court, and in this year, 1377, five bulls ^ (if it is technically correct so to style them) were issued by the pope — three to the archbishop of Canterbury and the bishop of London, one to the king, and one to Oxford, censuring the laxity which had permitted such heretical teaching to pass unrebuked, and requiring immediate proceedings against its author. ^ Fasc. Zizan., p. xxxi. ^ Vaughan, p. 200 ; Fuse. Zizan., p. xxx. 304 HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. There seems to have been httle wiUingness to move on the part of any of these authorities. Oxford showed itself pecuharly averse to act against its most iUustrious member. But it was incumbent on the archbishop to take some steps in the matter. Accordingly WyclifTe was summoned to appear before a synod at Lambeth in April 1378. The proceedings there also fell to the ground, partly on account of the people of London, comprising many leading citizens, forcing their way in and making their voices heard on the Eeformer's side, and partly because of an injunction from the queen-mother inhibiting further proceedings. But it was to this synod that Wychffe presented a paper in answer to the charges against him on which many of the imputations on his firmness have been based. Men have said that it was a sophistical and evasive document. Possibly if some only of the heads are taken by themselves it may be open to the charge. But it is simply that the great scholastic divine is choosing his own ground. He seems to play with the first items with something of the word-play of the schools, in its way as delicate a fence as that of the swordsman. But wdien he approaches the last items of the charge he drops the mere fence, and strikes home. He asserts ^ that ' it is lawful for kings, in cases limited by law, to take away the temporalities from church- men who habitually abuse them '—and he argues that it may be a work of charity to do so. He further declares that this may be done in spite of excommuni- cation or otlier Church censure, since such gifts are not absolute but on condition of spiritual service. Lastly, he adds ' that ecclesiastics, even the pope himself, ^ Vaughan, p. 211. WYCLIFFES DOCTRINES CONDEMNED. 305 may on some accounts be corrected by their subjects, and for the benefit of the Church be impleaded by both clergy and laity.' He argues this from tlie pecca- bihty of the pope and the consequent necessity, in the supposable case of his fault, of some means of correc- tion and redress. This surely is sufficiently plain speaking in a man standing where he did througli the action of a papal bull. Several years passed in com- parative tranquillity for Wyclille. On the suppression of Wat Tyler's insurrection Courtenay succeeded to the primacy. The teaching of Wycliffe had by this time become more distinctly heretical in the Eoman sense, and the doctrine of transubstantiation had been assailed in no measured language. Courtenay was rather a statesman than a divine, but such teaching as this cotdd no longer be overlooked by. an archbishop who wore the Eoman pallium. He summoned a council of leading divines to meet in the Chapter House of the Black Friars in May 1382. He laid before this assembly and submitted to their judgment twenty-four propositions said to be affirmed by Wycliffe. The first three of these deny transubstantiation or any corporal presence in the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper. Others relate to papal and other ecclesiastical jurisdictions, to the obligation of titlies, to the mendicant friars, to the duty of preach- ing, and many other subjects. Some of them, as they now stand, are obviously malicious misrepresentations ; for example,^ the seventh item, ' that God ought to obey the devil,' is a manifest absurdity, a distortion of a para- doxical utterance of tlie Eeformer. The result of the deliberations of this assembly was a document in which it was declared that ' some of the said conclusions were heretical, and some erroneous and contrary to the determination of tlie Churcli.' Proclamation was made X 306 HISTOEY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. to this effect from St. Paul's Cross, and excommunica- tion denounced against all who should thereafter defend them. This was followed not long afterwards by a statute against the itinerant preachers who disseminated doc- trines akin to those of Wychffe. Although irregularly enacted, and protested against in the next session of Parhament, this earliest law against heresy remained on the statute-book. It recited that divers evil persons within the realm went from county to county and from town to town, under dissimulation of great hohness, preaching daily in churches, churchyards, markets, fairs, and other open places divers sermons containing heresies and notorious errors, to the great emblemishing of the Christian faith. That these persons disobeyed the summons and moni- tions of the bishops, and by their subtil and ingenious words drew the people to hear their sermons and main- tain them in their errors by strong hand and great routs. The sheriffs and other royal officers were therefore directed to arrest such persons on certificate of the bis- hops and to imprison them until ecclesiastically cleared. This was the first in a long series of disastrous acts of interference with religious hberty on the part of the state. There is some satisfaction in knowing that the Commons of England at least protested that it was ' never authorized by them, and it never was their meaning to bind themselves or their successors to the prelates, any more than their ancestors had done before them.' The protest was vain, and the bishops retained that hold on the civil power by which sad events before long were to occur in England. Archbishop Courtenay proceeded, in spite of consi- derable opposition, to purge Oxford of heresy. Nicholas WYCLIFFE ON THE EUCHARIST. 307 Hereford and Philip Eepingdon, the most prominent adherents of Wychffe, were compelled to recant. Eeping- don died a cardinal and bishop of Lincoln ; Hereford was subjected to prolonged imprisonment. Wycliffe is also said to have answered in person at Oxford on the question of the Eucharistic presence, but the time and circumstances stand in great doubt. Different accounts are given of his conduct under these perilous circumstances. He has been even accused of recan- tation. Dr. Yaughan ^ maintains that a careful ex- amination of his explanation and defence both in English and Latin will satisfy us that he firmly repeated the same doctrine which he had taught for some time past. Dean Milman considers that he put forth his ' acuteness, subtilty, and logical versatility, in which he was perhaps the greatest and most experienced master in the University,' and thus perplexed and bewildered his auditory, who gave the most contradictory accounts of it. But the dean acquits him of disingenuousness or even of politic art, asserting that ' his view of the Eucharist is singularly consistent. The Eucharist is Christ's body and blood spiritually, sacram en tally ; but the bread and wine are not annihilated hy transmuta- tion.' This may be sufficient to convince us that no recantation was made, and that in the most august presence in England Wycliffe testified for what he beheved to be the truth of God. He who declared as he did in the elaborate statement in question that ' he dare not say that the bread is the body of Christ essen- tially, substantially, corporally, or identically, did in plain words deny the Eoman doctrine, and would un- doubtedly a few years later have been sent to the stake. His doctrine was condemned, but he remained at his ^ Vau^haii, p. 310; but see Fai