WEST KINGTON, the new field of labour to which Latimer had removed, is a little village on the confines of Wiltshire and Gloucestershire, some fourteen miles from Bristol, then the great commercial metropolis of the West of England. After the excitement of Court life, after the fatigue of his labours in London and the bitter controversies of Cambridge, his "little cure," as he affectionately styles it, must have seemed to promise a happy retreat where he might devote himself calmly and peacefully to the simple duties of his sacred office. Even at present the population of the parish numbers only a very few hundreds; and in Latimer's time, it was probably less, rather than greater. Of course there was the ordinary work of a country parish to perform; his "little bishopric," had its sick folks to be visited, its ignorance to be instructed, its "matrimonies" and other duties to be transacted; and Latimer, when he found so much to be done in a small cure, often wondered, "how men could go quietly to bed, who had great cures and many, and yet, peradventure, were in none of them at all." (1) Still, these labours were but slight in comparison with the toils and vexations of the last seven years; and to Latimer's over-strained mind, and over-exerted bodily frame, the retirement of West Kington must have brought refreshing and invigorating rest.
His new parish, in its quiet rural repose, must have reminded him of his native parish of Thurcastone; and, singularly enough, there were some connecting links between the two. Within half-a-mile of his rectory was the famous Roman Fossway, which led through Gloucester and Warwick, and past his father's farm at Thurcastone, to Lincoln; and as he walked along its narrow path, and watched its straight arrow-like course across the Downs, his thoughts would naturally be attracted towards his distant home, and his childhood, and the interesting and wonderful career through which God had led him to his present position. At the time of Latimer's incumbency, moreover, it happened that the manor of West Kington had descended in part to the same family of Grey, Marquis of Dorset, who were lords of the manor of Thurcastone, and to whom, in all probability old Hugh Latimer paid his rent "of three or four pound" for his farm. A family of Latimers also had been established in Wiltshire, whose arms, the same as those of the Leicestershire Latimers, from whom they were an offshoot, are still conspicuous in some of the village churches; and it was a Latimer, parson of the neighbouring parish of Leigh Delamere, that gave the first rudiments of instruction to the renowned philosopher, Thomas Hobbes, of Malmesbury. The memory of Latimer is still fresh in his country charge, and the parishioners are not a little proud of the illustrious rector who once presided over them. "In the walk at the Parsonage-house, is a little scrubbed hollow oak called Latimer's oak, where he used to sit." (2) The Church, a Greek cross in form, dedicated to the Virgin Mary, and substantially the same in which Latimer used to officiate, has been reverently and carefully restored; his pulpit is still preserved in it, and a stained glass-window, erected some twelve years ago, testifies to the veneration still entertained for the Reformer's memory.
The arrival of a preacher such as Latimer, whose reputation had already travelled over England, would excite no small ferment in a quiet neighbourhood like West Kington. The orthodox priests around would, of course, feel alarmed lest this great teacher of heresy should corrupt the minds of their flocks; and the few, chiefly citizens of Bristol, who had embraced the doctrines of the Reformers, would be elated with the prospect of hearing that voice, whose boldness and eloquence had delighted the learned and the great. That the local excitement should find vent in discussions and disturbances was only what might have been anticipated. It was scarcely possible for Latimer to preach the truth without, either directly or by implication, condemning much of what was taught and practised around him; and however much he might long for quiet and rest, he was sure to find antagonists, and to be involved as before in debate and controversy. But, before entering upon the details of his life in West Kington, it will be necessary to revert to the general history of the progress of the Reformation in England.
The long futile negotiations for a divorce had roused the spirit of Henry; he had been bearded in his own kingdom by the emissaries of a foreign ecclesiastic, and he was determined to be supreme in England. Wolsey felt the first burst of his indignation, but the King was not satisfied with the Cardinal's fall. Nothing, indeed, was further from his intention than to take any steps that might seem to favour the Reformed opinions, but he was, at the same time, resolved that the controversy between the Church and the Throne, which had been so often raised, should be settled for ever; the clergy must be taught that he and not the Pope was their master. Cromwell is said to have suggested to him the ingenious policy by which this resolution might be accomplished. One step had already been taken in the Parliament of 1529, and Henry had ascertained the irresolution and weakness of the clergy: by a bald resistance at that time the clergy might, perhaps, have averted the humiliation that was in store for them; but they had been unable to withstand the demands of the Commons, and Cromwell judged the time favourable for the next great step in his policy. In January, 1531, therefore, when Convocation reassembled, Cromwell, armed with the King's signet, boldly entered the assembly, and, seating himself among the Bishops, proceeded to unfold to the alarmed clergy the unpleasant predicament in which they had placed themselves. They, above all men in the kingdom he reminded them, were bound to obey the laws and to reverence the authority of the King. Instead of this, however, they had not only, contrary to their fealty to their sovereign, taken an oath of allegiance to the Pope, which was inconsistent with the duty of loyal subjects, (3) but they had, in open violation of the laws, recognised the late Cardinal as Papal Legate. The penalty was plain, he added; they had fallen under the law of praemunire; all their goods and chattels were forfeited to the King, and they were liable to imprisonment at discretion! (4) Unquestionably, Henry's proceeding was "extremely harsh and unfair"; (5) the law was practically obsolete; and he had himself fully recognised Wolsey's legatine authority. But this prosecution was the most effectual weapon for promoting his purpose; and it was a righteous retribution, which turned the most arrogant exhibition of ecclesiastical authority into the most formidable instrument for humbling the clergy. Convocation felt its helplessness. Resistance was hopeless. The precedent of Wolsey, who had at once acknowledged his guilt and surrendered his goods to the King, was fatally ominous. There were even signs of insubordination among the lower orders of the clerical body: the working clergy refused to assist the dignitaries, who alone had reaped the advantage in the day of the Church's glory. They had no alternative but submission. They implored the King's forgiveness, and purchased their pardon by promising to pay into the royal coffers a subsidy of £144,000 - an enormous fine, equal to more than two millions of our money. But they had not even yet drained the bitter cup, which Cromwell had prepared for them. In the formal instrument, which assured them of the royal pardon, Henry was styled the "protector and supreme head of the Church and clergy of England" (ecclesiae et cleri Anglicani protector et supremum caput rex solus est). The clergy were staggered by an acknowledgment which virtually annulled their oath to the Pope, and abolished the supremacy of the Holy See. Session after session, therefore, the subject was earnestly debated, and various proposals were made, by the insertion of limiting and modifying clauses, so to qualify the phraseology, as to preserve the dignity and authority of the Church unimpaired. But Henry refused to entertain their proposals; he "would have no tantums," he said. At length, on February 11, amidst the gloomy silence of the prelates, Warham, the Archbishop, declared that all consented to recognise Henry as "sole protector, only sovereign Lord, and also, as far as by the law of Christ is lawful, supreme head of the English Church." (6) Bishop Fisher is said to have devised the one qualifying clause in this declaration, which, however, as he afterwards found to his cost, in no way limited Henry's supreme authority over the English Church. The clergy were right in standing to the last against the declaration which Henry wished to exact from them, for it was the citadel of the whole ecclesiastical system. From the moment it was declared to be the law of England, that the voice of the people speaking through parliament or through the sovereign was to be supreme, the authority of Rome was gone. Every subsequent step in the English Reformation was simply a corollary from this great fundamental position.
This humiliating business over, Convocation turned to the more congenial occupation of prosecuting those heretics who had been most conspicuous in opposing the doctrinal teaching of the Church. A Gloucestershire squire, William Tracy, had recently died, and when his will was proved in the Archbishop's Court it was found redolent with what was deemed the most dangerous heresy. The testator rested his whole hope of salvation on the mediation of Christ, repudiating entirely the intercession of any other mediators; and he had expressly forbidden the giving of any of his property to say masses for the benefit of his departed soul. Tracy himself had fortunately passed beyond the jurisdiction of Convocation, but, lest others should follow such an " impious and heretical" example, it was ordered, after many debates, that his dead body should be exhumed, and ignominiously thrown out of consecrated ground. This foolish sentence, a mere impotent ebullition of spite, was duly executed by Dr. Parker, the Chancellor of the diocese of Worcester, who caused the dead body to be dug out of the grave and publicly burned, for which a few years later, when the tables were turned, he was deprived of his Chancellorship and heavily fined. (7)
Latimer's preaching was also brought under the notice of Convocation. Stokesley, the new Bishop of London, had now returned from the Continent, and assumed the administration of his diocese; and was determined to signalise his episcopate by unsparing zeal in extirpating heresy. On March 3, 1531, as soon as the question of the Royal Supremacy had been settled, he proposed to the Convocation articles of accusation against Latimer, Crome, and Bilney, for heretical preaching within the diocese of London. (8) The subject was resumed on March 18, but some difficulty apparently prevented its being further prosecuted at the time, and the matter was deferred to a future opportunity. Latimer and Bilney were, indeed, beyond Stokesley's reach, but the vindictive prelate, though disappointed for the time, resolved to watch for a favourable occasion of proceeding against them. Crome, however, as a London incumbent, was at hand, and was at once placed on his trial; and, with the same unhappy weakness which we have so often had to condemn in the leaders of the Reformation, he retracted his opinions, signed a series of propositions, affirming the common teaching of the Church; and publicly preached in favour of the doctrines which he had controverted. (9) It was a lamentable exhibition of vacillation, almost of apostacy; and Crome attempted to salve his conscience, and maintain his integrity, by the help of some ingenious and almost equivocal explanations; but the pious laity, though shocked, were not deceived. "I heard Master Crome preach," said Bainham, one of Stokesley's subsequent victims, "and say that he thought there was a purgatory after this life, and I thought in my mind that the said Master Crome lied and spake against his conscience, and there were a hundred more who thought as I did. I have also seen the confession of Master Crome in print, God wot, a very foolish thing, as I judge." (10) The preachers had failed in the hour of trial and danger; the laity were about to give them an example of constancy and fortitude.
Latimer meanwhile had, as might have been anticipated, been drawn into a hot controversy with some of the neighbouring clergy. He had been preaching in Marshfield, a village some four miles from West Kington, and, exasperated possibly by Stokesley's violence, he had condemned the conduct of the rulers of the Church in the strongest terms. His audience was no doubt numerous, and the most exaggerated versions of his sermons were soon spread through the country, to the alarm and horror of the easy-going parish priests of the neighbourhood. He had selected as his text a favourite verse from the Gospel of St. John: "All that ever came before me were thieves and robbers;" and, according to the popular report of his words, he had roundly asserted that all bishops, all popes, all rectors, all vicars, were thieves and robbers, and that all the hemp in England would not suffice to hang these clerical delinquents; he had declared that Peter had no supremacy over the other apostles, but that all Christians were priests; and had maintained that baptism was of no avail unless men lived in accordance with their Christian profession. As usual, the people had considerably misinterpreted the preacher's meaning. Latimer, it must be confessed, had not yet imbibed the spirit of the Protestant theology sufficiently to make such assertions as were ascribed to him; still the sermon was a bold one, and the neighbouring priests looked upon it as a sort of challenge to them. It formed the theme of their conversation when they met, and many a hard saying and bitter joke were rented against the great heretical preacher at the tables of the clergy. One of them, William Sherwood, in the parish of Derham, adjoining West Kington, bolder than the rest, and unable to restrain his indignation, wrote to Latimer a long letter of expostulation, on what he is pleased to style his " insane satire," at Marshfield. He had already, "over his wine," (11) refuted and exposed the Reformer to his own satisfaction, and he now felt emboldened to come forward as the champion of the Church against heretics. His letter is a mixture of assumed courtesy and offensive rudeness, which could not fail to rouse Latimer's indignation.
"I know you will not be offended at me," thus he began, " if I venture to give you a little Christian admonition about that unchristian sermon, or rather mad satire, of yours, lately preached at Marshfield. Christ said, 'He that entereth not by the door into the sheepfold, but climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber,' whereas you, who cannot search hearts, declared that all bishops, popes, rectors (all except yourself, and some more of your class, I suppose), were thieves and robbers, for hanging whom, as you said in an audacious and impious hyperbole, the whole hemp of England would not suffice. Ah! my brother, we should not judge rashly before the time. St. Paul, nay, Christ himself, warns us not to judge others. Alas! alas! Latimer, what madness transported you to declare falsely that there were more thieves than shepherds in Christ's Church? Far different was the opinion of the famous St. Cyprian, etc. You said also that every one who with Peter confesses Christ to be the Son of the living God, was a Peter, as if the passage belonged no more to Peter, the supreme Vicar of Christ on earth, than to any Christian whatever; the very error of the Lutherans, who maintain that all Christians are priests: a heresy long ago condemned by the Church. And even more than this, you said that a baptized man who followed the lusts of the flesh was no more a Christian than a Jew or a Turk, a, horrible doctrine worthy only of such heretics as Zwingle and. Ecolampadius." (12)
The rest of the letter is in the same vein, and need not be quoted at length. Latimer answered in a somewhat rough and indignant mood; for Sherwood, while assuming an air of courtesy and politeness, had written with great bitterness, and was endeavouring to excite odium against the Reformer by classing him with the great Continental heresiarchs, whose opinions Latimer as yet by no means shared. After reproving Sherwood for his insulting and calumnious insinuations, he proceeded to refute his opponent's arguments:-
"Granted that I said all popes, bishops, and rectors, who enter not by the door but climb up some other way, are thieves and robbers, in so saying I was not judging the persons, but their manner of entrance, as Christ Himself was. And from this assertion you, in your wisdom, infer that all popes, bishops, and rectors are thieves, at least that I said so. Is that a fair inference? Might I not retort upon you the warning of St. Paul and of Christ, not to judge? How is it, pray, that when I say all who enter not by the door are thieves, I seem to you to say absolutely that all are thieves, unless perhaps almost all seem to you to climb up some other way, and not to enter in by the door? If this be your opinion, at least forbear to say what you think, if you are wise (and you are quite wise enough), for you must see what danger you would bring upon yourself by such an assertion. Neither did I say anything derogatory of the primacy of Peter, for that subject was not mentioned by me; on the contrary, I simply reminded my hearers that the Church of Christ was founded on a rock, not on the sand; and warned them that they should not trust too much in a dead faith, in which case they would perish and would be shamefully overcome by the gates of hell; but should show forth their faith by their works, and thus at length obtain everlasting life. You are manifestly one of those who are more ready to defend the primacy of Peter, even when there is no occasion, than to renew the blessed confession of Peter in suitable works of holiness. Finally, I affirm that a Christian, that is, a person received by baptism into the number of Christians, if he live not according to his profession, but yield himself up to the lusts of the flesh, is no more a Christian as touching the inheriting of eternal life which is promised to Christ's people, than a Jew or a Turk; yea, rather his condition at the last day will be worse than the others. We shall not be placed amongst Christ's sheep at the right hand if, while professing Christ, we have not lived a life worthy of Christ, but have disgraced our profession by wicked living. It is the duty of a preacher to exhort his hearers to be Christians after such a manner, that suffering here with Christ they may reign with him in heaven; and to teach them that to be a Christian after any other fashion is not to be a Christian at all. So speak the Scriptures, and the interpreters of the Scriptures, though you may rail it heretical. The coveteous man, the fornicator, the murderer, you say, is a Catholic and a servant of Christ. For the humour of the thing I will carry on the jest with you. A fornicator, you say, is a servant of Christ; but he is also a servant of sin and of the devil; therefore the same man can serve two masters; which Christ was not aware of. And if dead faith makes a Catholic, the very devils belong to the Catholic Church; since, according to James, 'they believe and tremble.' If your conversation is not milder than your writings, I hope to come in contact with neither; but may all bitterness and pride and anger and clamour and evil speaking be taken from you, with all malice! Yet neither by words nor by writing will you annoy me. I fancy you would not wish for such hearers as you have shown yourself to he. May God make you more charitable, or keep you as far as possible from my preaching!"
Sherwood, who had probably been the great oracle of the neighbourhood previous to Latimer's arrival, was determined to have the last word in the controversy, and he ventured on a rejoinder in the somewhat more cautious vein of a man who was anxious to quit the field without dishonour. He had received Latimer's letter, he said, and read it, though it deserved only to be burned. He denied that he had said anything bitter against Latimer, or had reviled him over his cups; all that he had done was, when some of Latimer's hearers told him that the preacher had spoken disrespectfully of the Ave Mary, to warn them against the doctrines of such heretical teachers. Was this abusing Latimer? Was it not rather taking pious precautions for the benefit of his people? Far be it from him to exhibit any anger; he had learned from Christ to love even his enemies, much more, then, must he love a brother and fellow-servant of the same God. As to Latimer's defence and explanations of his doctrines, he accepted them gladly; they had, indeed, been very differently reported to him by those who were present, but as they were now explained, they were sound and Catholic, and he had nothing to say against them.
In fact, it is apparent from his second letter, that Sherwood had discovered that he had overrated his strength when he thus ventured into the arena to measure himself with the accomplished disputant against whom the wits of Cambridge had contended in vain; and he was only too glad to be able to retire with any appearance of honour from the unequal contest.
About midsummer of this year (1531) Latimer again visited London, solicited probably by his friends Cromwell and Butts, who had strongly opposed his resolution to reside on his living. Of course he could not escape being importuned to preach, for the recollection of his eloquence was still fresh, and there were many who longed to hear again from his lips words of comfort and life. He did preach, accordingly, in Kent, (13) at the instant request of the parish priest; but knowing Stokesley's furious zeal against all reformed doctrines, he for some time resolutely declined to officiate in London. At last he was prevailed upon by the entreaties of some merchants, who showed him that there were many very desirous to hear him," who had great hunger and thirst of the "Word of God, and of ghostly doctrine;" and he preached in St. Mary Abchurch. He had no intention of defying Stokesley's authority, but neither had he any wish to escape notice and evade responsibility. He declined twice or thrice to comply with the request of the merchants; he showed them that he had no licence from the Bishop of the Diocese, but only from the University of Cambridge; and insisted that his name should be plainly made known to the incumbent (14) of the church in which he was to preach. Being satisfied that all proper precautions were taken not to practise any deception, he at last consented to preach, and was received with great courtesy by the parson and curate, who gave him the common benediction as he entered the pulpit. Notwithstanding all this urgency on the part of the merchants, however, and the civility on the part of the clergy of the church, Latimer was not without the suspicion that "it was a train and trap laid before him, to the intent that Stokesley, or some other pertaining to him, should have been there to take him in his sermon;" (15) and this suspicion incited him to express himself with more boldness. The Epistle, from which ho preached, supplied a theme admirably suited for the circumstances of the time. "Ye are not under the law," such was the test; and thus the preacher began to expound it: "Christians not under the law! not subject to the law! Surely this is a dangerous saying, if it be not rightly understood, sounding as if Christians were at liberty to break the laws. What if the adversaries of St. Paul had so understood them, and had accused St. Paul before the Bishop of London for preaching them? If my lord of London would have listened to St. Paul declaring his own opinion of his own words, then he should have escaped, and his opponents should have been rebuked; but if he had given sentence according to the representations of the accusers, then good St. Paul must have borne a fagot on his back, even at Paul's cross, my lord of London, bishop of the same, sitting under the cross. Oh, it had been a goodly sight to have seen St. Paul thus! " Judges, therefore, the preacher went on to argue, ought to be careful in proceeding against teachers of religion, and should place no reliance on the reports of ignorant or dishonest hearers, who either misunderstood or misrepresented what had been addressed to them. In the rest of his sermon he diverged to the topics which he was accustomed on all occasions to introduce as of great moment. He warned his hearers against the common abuses and superstitions of the day, and especially against that fertile source of corruption and immorality, the going on pilgrimages. "If you will go pilgrimages," said he, "make your pilgrimages to your poor neighbours around you." He is even said to have spoken with disrespect of the "Sacrament of the Altar," but this is probably only an inference on the part of some hearer more advanced in Protestant theology than the preacher; (16) for Latimer did not till many years later abandon the Romish views of the nature of the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper.
Such a sermon could not but excite Stokesley's indignation. He viewed it as personally directed against himself, and not without good reason; for in conjunction with Sir Thomas More, he had just entered upon that career of violent and even illegal persecution for which his episcopate is so infamously notorious. He endeavoured to excite Henry's indignation against Latimer, by representing his sermon as a defence of the heretics who were under trial, and chiefly of Bilney; but, apparently, Henry refused to listen to Stokesley's entreaties, for Latimer was allowed to return unmolested to his country charge.
It is just possible, though there is no direct evidence of the fact, that on this journey to London, Latimer may, for the last time, have conversed with his dear friend and spiritual father, Bilney. That gentle Reformer had at last come to the resolution that it was his duty, at any risk to himself, to preach openly the doctrines which he had twice in his weakness ignominiously denied. The resolution grew up in the secrecy of his own heart, without communication with any one; and in the spring of 1531, he summoned together the friends that still remained at Cambridge, and solemnly took leave of them with the affecting words, " I must needs go up to Jerusalem." They saw that remonstrances would be idle, and with tears they commended him to the keeping and comfort of God. He set out accordingly on his last journey. He directed his steps first of all to his native county of Norfolk; where he visited the faithful, and preached in the fields; confessing and bewailing his former cowardice; assuring his hearers that what he taught was the very truth of God; and warning them to beware of following his evil example in denying their faith, by listening to the timid advice of earthly friends. From Norfolk, he proceeded southwards, and probably visited London, for, six weeks before his arrest, he was seen at Greenwich. (17) He carried about with him copies of Tyndale's New Testament, which he distributed wherever he went. At length the Bishop of Norwich discovered and seized him. He was a relapsed heretic, caught in the very act of disseminating heretical books; and his case was a very simple one. A writ for burning him was speedily procured from More, who is said to have jocularly remarked that in so flagrant an instance the proper course would have been "to burn him first and procure a writ afterwards." After a short and summary trial, he was condemned, degraded from the priesthood, and handed over to the sheriff to be burned. Still his courage did not forsake him; he remained cheerful and serene. On the evening before his martyrdom his friends came to visit him, and sought to console him with the common-places of comfort. "The fire might be hot to the body," they said, " but the Spirit of God would be able to cool it to his everlasting refreshing." "I know by experience," Bilney replied, putting his finger into the flame of the candle, and holding it there till it was burned to the first joint, "I know by experience, that fire, by God's ordinance, is naturally hot; but yet I am persuaded by God's Holy Word, and by the experience of some spoken of in the same, that in the flame they felt no heat, and in the fire they felt no consumption. And I constantly believe that however the stubble of this my body shall be wasted by it, yet my soul and spirit shall be purged thereby: a pain for the time, whereon, notwithstanding, followeth joy unspeakable. For God himself has said, 'Fear not, for I have redeemed thee, and called thee by thy name, thou art mine; when thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee; when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned, neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.'" The words had often been the stay of Bilney in his retirement; and his Bible, still preserved in the library of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, has the passage marked with a pen in the margin, an interesting and affecting memorial of the gentle martyr.
Next morning, August 19th, he was led to the Lollards' Pit, a capacious hollow, near the gate of the city of Norwich, admirably adapted to afford to the assembled crowds a full view of the terrible spectacle. It was a boisterous day; and the wind blew the blaze away from Bilney, who was miserably scorched before the flames were strong enough to destroy him. Even in that dreadful hour, however, the martyr did not lose his constancy; in the agony of death, while he beat upon his breast in the paroxysms of pain, he was overheard by the bystanders commending his soul in faith to the keeping of the Divine Master, whom he thus glorified in the flames. Reports were, indeed, circulated after his death that he had again recanted and abjured his faith; but on examination, even before so prejudiced a judge as Sir Thomas More, these proved to be unsubstantial and little worthy of credit. The priest with whom they originated, (18) was an authority by no means removed above suspicion; he was guilty of embezzling charitable funds, and was publicly denounced in the council-chamber of Norwich, as "a liar, not fit to come amongst honest men." (19) Foxe's account of the martyrdom, which has been followed in this biography, was derived from the information of Archbishop Parker, who had come from Cambridge to be present at the scene, and whose veracity few will call in question: and confirmed as it is by the depositions of the Mayor of Norwich in the State Paper Office, we are sufficiently warranted in dismissing the report of Bilncy's abjuration as an unfounded calumny against his memory. History has hardly done justice to the character of Bilney and his important services in promoting the Reformation in England. Gentle, timid, and unassuming, only his intimate friends knew his great and real worth. Like Latimer, he was very slow in abandoning the doctrines to which he had been so long accustomed; but even Luther himself did not hold more firmly the great truth which had been to Bilney the source of all his spiritual life and comfort, - the free forgiveness of sins through the atonement of Christ. By way of epitaph upon this gentle leader of the Reformation, let us listen to Latimer's opinion of him :-
"I have known Bilney a great while, and have been his ghostly father many a time; and to say the truth, I have known hitherto few such, so prompt and ready to do every man good after his power, both friend and foe; noisome wittingly to no man; and towards his enemy so charitable, so seeking to reconcile them as he did, I have known yet not many; and to be short, a very simple good soul, nothing fit or meet for this wretched world, whose blind fashion and miserable state (yea, far from Christ's doctrine) he could as evil bear, and would sorrow, lament and bewail it as much as any man that ever I knew: as for his singular learning, as well in Holy Scripture as in all other good letters, I will not speak of it. And if a man living so mercifully, so charitably, so patiently, so continently, so studiously and virtuously, and killing his old Adam (that is to say, mortifying his evil affections and blind motions of his heart) so diligently, should die an evil death," (i.e., died a wicked, sinful man, as the clergy in general said), " there is no more; but 'Let him that standeth, beware that he fall not;' for if such as he shall die evil, what shall become of me, such a wretch as I am? " (20)
Bilney was not the only martyr of that furious autumn of 1531. Just about the time of his death, Stokesley caused a priest. Richard Bayfield, to be seized, and confined in his notorious "coal-house," at Fulham. Bayfield had been exceedingly active in circulating prohibited books; (21) and great efforts were accordingly made to induce him to confess his accomplices. He was, it is said, fastened upright to the walls of his dungeon, chained round the feet, the neck and the waist, that the misery of this sleepless posture might wring the secret from him; but in vain, he was resolute, and named no one. All other means having failed to shake his constancy, he was, on November 20, handed over to the secular power, in the usual hypocritical form, "requiring in the bowels of Christ that the execution of this worthy punishment to be done upon thee, may be so moderated that there be neither over much cruelty, nor too much favourable gentleness; but that it may be to the health and salvation of thy soul, and to the extirpation, fear, terror, and conversion of all other heretics unto the unity of the Catholic faith." Stokesley was present at the trial, and, according to Foxe, was so infuriated at his resolute refusal to incriminate any one, that he struck him a violent blow with his crozier on the breast, causing him to fall senseless on the pavement. As so often happened on such occasions, either from carelessness, or mistaken kindness on the part of the officials, the fire on the day of martyrdom was not made at first sufficiently strong to consume the unhappy victim. Bayfield stood for some time in miserable torture, and his left arm was burned and fell from his body, before the flames reached any vital part; but he continued unmoved in prayer till life was extinct.
A fresh victim speedily followed him to the stake. John Tewkesbury, a leather-merchant in the City, who had abjured under Tunstal, was again apprehended in the autumn of 1531. He was subjected to the most barbarous ill-usage at the hands of the philosophic Chancellor, who had forgotten all the theoretical toleration that he had advocated in his earlier days. Tewkesbury was taken to More's residence in Chelsea, and whipped at the famous "Jesus' tree," or "tree of troth," in that renowned garden where More had been seen walking, with the Sovereign's arm lovingly encircling his neck. Still refusing to recant, Tewkesbury was subjected to yet more cruel usage. Cords were tied round his head, and strained till the blood started from his eyes; and, in defiance of the law, he was racked in the Tower till he was almost lame. (22) Terrified by the severity which he had experienced, Tewkesbury at last abjured, and was dismissed, after having entered into recognizances to appear again when called upon. Bayfield's constancy, however, filled him with remorse and shame at his own weakness and apostasy. He could not keep silence; conscience compelled him again to teach what he believed to be the truth of God; he was seized, brought once more before Stokesley and More at Chelsea, condemned, and burnt in Smithfield on December 20, the anniversary of Stokesley's consecration, which was thus appropriately commemorated; no royal writ having been obtained by either the Bishop or the Chancellor to warrant their persecuting the King's subjects to the death.
Stokesley, as we have seen, had already this year made one unsuccessful attempt to get Latimer into his power, and, though he had failed, he had not forgotten the provocation of the Reformer's sermon, and was secretly devising some means of accomplishing his purpose. Latimer's bishop, Cardinal Campeggio, was abroad, and no plans could be concerted with him; but Stokesley wrote to Hiley, the Chancellor of the Diocese, complaining of the contempt done to his authority by Latimer's preaching in St. Mary Abchurch, and requiring him to refer the case to London, where the offence had been committed, that the offender might be judged there. His request might have been resented by Hiley as an unwarrantable interference with the affairs of another diocese; but Stokesley was an active prelate, possessing great influence both with Sir Thomas More and with the aged primate Warham: and it was not prudent to deny him any favour on which he had set his heart. Happily ignorant of the snares that were being woven round him, Latimer was looking forward with pleasant anticipations of making merry among his parishioners at Christmas, when he was summoned to appear before Hiley. He was informed of Stokesley's complaint against him, and was asked to go to London to be tried. He declined. Hiley, he said, was his ordinary, and might "reform him as far as he needed reformation, as well and as soon as the Bishop of London." Besides, it was a severe winter; he was weak and feeble, suffering from various painful diseases; and he would therefore be very loth to take so long a journey, especially as he was not bound to comply with Stokesley's request. He promised, however, that if Hiley commanded him to go to London, he would obey, whatever annoyance and pain it might occasion him. Hiley expressed himself satisfied with this answer, and promised to communicate it to Stokesley. In this interview Latimer was accompanied by his friend Sir Edward Baynton, lord of the neighbouring manor of Bromeham, and a courtier in high favour with Henry; and at his suggestion, probably, the Reformer explained his doctrines on the subject of purgatory and the worshipping of saints, in the hope that Hiley might transmit to Stokesley an account sufficiently favourable to pacify that vindictive prelate.
Latimer, however, had no such hope of escaping Stokesley's animosity so easily; and he returned to West Kington with a heavy heart, disconsolate, and almost despondent, tempted to abandon the struggle, and to seek rest and safety on the Continent. In his grief he wrote a long letter to Baynton, explaining his teaching, and narrating what had occurred on his last visit to London. He was particularly indignant at Stokesley's interference with him: "Meseems," says he, "it were more comely for my lord to be a preacher himself, having so great a cure as he hath, than to be a disquieter and troubler of preachers, and to preach nothing at all himself. If it would please his lordship to take so great a labour and pain at any time, as to come to preach in my little bishopric at West Kington, whether I were present or absent myself, I would thank his lordship heartily, and think myself greatly bounden to him, that he of his charitable goodness would go so far to help to discharge me in my cure, or else I were more unnatural than a beast unreasonable; nor yet I would dispute, contend, or demand by what authority, or where he had authority so to do, as long as his predication were faithful and to the edification of my parishioners." As to the charge of preaching without sufficient authority, Latimer maintained that he had as good a licence to preach as any that Stokesley could give. The University of Cambridge had authority to admit twelve yearly, and Henry had decreed that all who were thus admitted should have full liberty to preach anywhere in England, so long as they preached well; Latimer had therefore royal authority to support him in preaching in London. As to the matter of his preaching, if it were taken as he spoke it, Latimer felt confident that Stokesley would find nothing to condemn in it. He had, no doubt, reproved the abuses and superstitions of voluntary things; he did not, however, condemn the things themselves, though those who found "less money in their boxes by condemnation of the abuses," falsely declared that he did. He admitted that if Stokesley were to inquire minutely into his opinions, he would find much to displease him, for in many things he had changed. Thus, he adds :-
"I have thought in times past, that the Pope, Christ's vicar, hath been lord of all the world as Christ is; so that if he should have deprived the King of his crown, or you of the lordship of Bromeham, it had been enough, for he could do no wrong. Now, I might be hired to think otherwise.
"I have thought in times past, that the Pope's dispensation of pluralities of benefices, and absence from the same, had discharged consciences before God, forasmuch as I hare heard certain Scriptures bended to corroborate the same. Now, I might be easily entreated to think otherwise.
"I have thought in times past, that the Pope could have spoiled purgatory at his pleasure with a word of his mouth. Now learning might persuade me otherwise, or else I would marvel why he suffer so much money to be bestowed that way, which is so needful to be bestowed otherwise, and to deprive as of so many patrons in heaven as he might deliver out of purgatorv.
"I have thought in times past, that if I had been a friar, and in a cowl, I could not have been damned, nor afraid of death, and by occasion of the same I have been minded many times to have been a friar, namely, when I was sore sick and diseased. Now, I abhor my superstitious foolishness.
"I have thought in times past, that divers images of saints could have holpen me, and done me much good, and delivered me of my diseases. Now, I know that one can help as much as another, and it pitieth my heart that my lord, and such as my lord is, can suffer the people to be so craftily deceived. It were too long to tell you. what blindness I have been in, and how long it were ere I could forsake such folly, it was so corporate in me; but by continual prayer, continual study of Scripture, and oft communing with men of more right judgment, God hath delivered me.
"Yea, men think that my lord himself hath thought in times past, that by God's law a man might marry his brother's wife, which now both dare think and say contrary " [Stokesley was one of the most active agents in promoting Henry's divorce], "and yet this his boldness might have chanced, in Pope Julius's days, to stand him either in a fire or else in a fagot."
Latimer was well aware of the gravity of the occasion; Stokesley was a determined enemy, and if he once got him into his power, would not readily let him free again.
"I know," he concludes, " that the matter is as weighty as my life is worth; but how to look substantially upon it, otherwise know not I, than to pray my Lord God day and night, that as He has emboldened me to preach His truth, so He will strengthen me to suffer for it, to the edification of them which have taken" [received] "by the working of Him; fruit thereby. And even so I desire you and all other that favour me for His sake, likewise to pray; for it is not I, without His mighty helping hand, that can abide that brunt; but I have trust that God will help me in time of need, which if I had not, the ocean-sea, I think should have divided my Lord of London and me by this day. For it is a rare thing for a preacher to have favour at his hands, which is no preacher himself and yet ought to be. If I be not prevented shortly, I intend to make merry with my parishioners this Christmas, for" [in spite of] "all the sorrow, lest perchance I never return to them again; and I have heard say, that a doe is as good in winter as a buck in summer." (23)
Baynton communicated this letter to some of his friends, who censured it severely, condemning it especially for its arrogance. "God only knew the truth for certain," so Baynton's friends urged, with the time-honoured commonplaces which have been in all ages the creed of the indolent; "and if any man's preaching excited contention rather than charity, whatever he might allege in defence of his opinions, yet the teaching was not to be taken as of God, because it broke the chain of Christian charity, and made division in the people." Baynton himself, with the true instincts of a courtier, recommended caution and submission; it was not for an unlearned man like him, he said, to give sentence in such high matters, but as a prudent man he was of course bound to adhere to the opinions of the majority, unless it should please God to add to Latimer's opinions converts "in such honest number," as ought to induce him to change his belief. (24) It is this indolent ignorance, assuming the garb of modesty and prudence, which has always been the grand obstacle to every reformation; and Latimer, though unusually busy with the cares of his parish, and at a distance from books and from learned friends, lost no time in defending himself against the charges of his cautious critics.
"Ye mislike that I say I am sure that I preach the truth; saying in reproof of the same, that God alone knoweth certain truth. Indeed God alone knoweth all certain truth. But as to my presumption and arrogancy, either I am certain or uncertain that it is truth that I preach. If it be truth, why may not I say so, to courage my hearers to receive the same more ardently and ensue it more studiously? If I be uncertain, why dare I be so bold to preach it? And if your friends, in whom ye trust so greatly, be preachers themselves, after their sermons, I pray you, ask them whether they be certain and sure that they taught you the truth or no: and send me word what they say, that I may learn to speak after them" [to answer as they did], " If they say that they be sure, ye know what followeth" [they were arrogant], "if they say they be unsure, when shall you be sure, that have so doubtful teachers and unsure? And you yourselves whether are you certain or uncertain that Christ is your Saviour?" (25)
Latimer utterly denied that there was any foundation for the charge of pride brought against him; he had not taught great subtleties and high matters to the people, but had confined himself to the simple utterance of "true faith and fruits of the same." If this preaching was followed by dissension and division, he was very sorry; such was not his intention; still it would not be safe to conclude, as Baynton's friends had done, that such preaching must necessarily be of the devil. St. Paul's preaching to the Galatians had occasioned much dissension in that Church, but it did not follow that St. Paul was not a true apostle. St. Jerome's writings had stirred up bitter dissension, were they therefore not of God? The doctrine that marriage with a deceased brother's wife was illegal had occasioned much dissension in a Christian congregation, were those who maintained this doctrine (that is, Henry, Stokesley, and others), to be forthwith condemned as of the devil? And recurring again to a position that had already excited much odium against him, he asked:-
"What mean your friends by a Christian congregation? All those, trow ye, that have been Christianed? But many of those be in worse condition, and shall have greater damnation, than many unchristianed. For it is not enough to a Christian congregation that is of God, to have been christened; but it is to be considered what we promise when we be christened, to renounce Satan, his works, his pomps; which thing if we busy not ourselves to do, let us not crack" [i.e. boast], "that we profess Christ's name in a Christian congregation. The devils believe in God to their little comfort. I pray God to save you and your friends from that believing congregation, and from that faithful company.
"Ye pray for agreement both in the truth and in uttering of the truth, when shall that be, as long as we will not hear the truth, but disquiet the preachers of the truth, because they reprove our evilness? And, to say the truth, better it were to have a deformity in preaching, so that some would preach the truth of God, than to have such a uniformity, that the silly people should be thereby occasioned to continue still in their lamentable ignorance, corrupt judgment, superstition, and idolatry, and esteem things, as they do all, preposterously; doing that that they need not for to do, leaving undone that they ought for to do, for want of knowing what is to be done." (26)
Latimer had still much to learn; he was slow in pushing the doctrines he had adopted to their logical conclusions, and was anxious to retain all the ceremonies of the Church, only purified from what he deemed incidental abuses; but the gulf between him and the defenders of the Church was daily widening, and the necessity of supporting his own teaching, was gradually compelling him to advance farther and farther in the direction of a thorough reform, both in doctrine and in ritual. He was still engaged in his animated reply when a messenger arrived from Sir Walter Hungerford, of Farley, with the dreaded citation to appear before Stokesley to answer for the "crimes and grave excesses committed by him within the diocese of London" (certis articulis sive interrogatoriis, crimina seu excessus graves infra jurisdictionem London per ipsum commissos concernentibus, personaliter responsurus). Hiley had yielded to Stokesley's importunity, and had issued the citation on January 10, 1532, requiring Latimer to proceed to London immediately, and appear before the Bishop in the Consistory Court in St. Paul's Church, on Monday, Jan. 29, between the hours of nine and eleven in the forenoon. (27) Latimer could not refuse to obey the citation of his lawful ordinary, and with a heavy heart he prepared for the unpleasant journey, which might involve so many important consequences. "What a world is this," he remarked, " that I shall be put to so great labour and pains, besides great costs above my power, for preaching of a poor simple sermon! But, I trow, our Saviour Christ said true, ' I must needs suffer and so enter;' so perilous a thing it is to live virtuously with Christ."
With melancholy forebodings of what might befall him, Latimer set off for London. It was almost exactly a year since he had come to reside in his country rectory, hoping for rest and peace after the turmoil of the Court and the bitter controversies of Cambridge; but his wishes had been disappointed; debate and strife had followed him and invaded his retirement; and he was now about to appear before a determined and implacable judge who prided himself on showing no mercy to any teacher of heresy. On arriving in London, he was immediately placed on his trial before Stokesley and a secret conclave of episcopal assessors. He was repeatedly examined; but nothing was elicited on which any definite charge of heresy could be founded. For Latimer, it will be remembered, had not yet diverged far from the customary orthodoxy of the Church: he had inveighed against the abuses and superstitions which so widely prevailed, and had condemned the carelessness and ignorance of the clergy; but this had been done even by Convocation itself, and could not be construed to be a doctrinal heresy. Still the Bishops knew that in Latimer they had one of the chief leaders of those clergy who were in favour of the Reformed doctrines; and they were resolved to find some ground for proceeding against him, and for involving him in liability to punishment. Latimer himself has left us a graphic account of the expedients devised to entrap him. (28)
"Once I was in examination before five or six bishops, where I had much turmoiling. Every week twice I came to examination, and many snares and traps were laid to get something. At the last I was brought forth to be examined into a chamber hanged with arras, where I was before wont to be examined; but now at this time the chamber was somewhat altered; for, whereas before there was wont ever to be a ire in the chimney, now the fire was taken away, and an arras-hanging hanged over the chimney, and the table stood near the chimney's end: so that I stood between the table and the chimney's end. There was among these bishops that examined me one with whom I have been very familiar, and took him for my great friend, an aged man, and he sat next the table end. Then among all other questions, he put forth one, a very subtle and crafty one; and such one indeed as I could not think so great danger in. And when I should make answer, 'I pray you, Master Latimer,' said he, ' speak out, I am very thick of hearing, and here be many that sit far off.' I marvelled at this, that I was bidden speak out, and began to misdeem, and gave an ear to the chimney. And there I heard a pen walking in the chimney behind the cloth. They had appointed one there to write all my answers; for they made sure work that I should not start from them. The question was this :- 'Master Latimer, do you not think on your conscience, that you have been suspected of heresy?' A subtle question, a very subtle question. There was no holding of peace would serve. To hold my peace had been to grant myself faulty. To answer it was every way full of danger. But God, which alway hath given me answer, helped me, or else I could never have escaped it; and delivered me from their hands."
Latimer has not recorded the answer by which he escaped this question so ingeniously contrived to ensnare him; but he never was in a position where his ready wit and skill in logical fence, were so urgently required to secure his safety. If the charge of heretical teaching could be clearly substantiated against him, he knew well that he could expect no favour; Henry still prided himself on his unimpeachable orthodoxy; and neither Cromwell nor Anne Boleyn could have ventured to intercede for a convicted heretic.
Fortunately for Latimer, the circumstances of the times were such as to inspire Stokesley with caution. Parliament had assembled, and the Commons were with one voice complaining of the tyrannical proceedings of the clergy in the Ecclesiastical Courts. The divorce, too, still dragging its slow length along, was embittering the relations of the Pope and the King; and loud murmurs against Papal insolence were beginning to be uttered all over England. At the very time when Latimer was on his way to London, Francis I. had written to the Pope urging him to consent to Henry's proposals, (29) assuring him that there was no longer the customary ready obedience to the Papal See in England, and warning him that if he persisted in denying the King's request, the Papal authority would run the risk of serious diminution. So threatening, indeed, was the aspect of affairs at the time, that Warham apprehended the most serious disasters to the Church; and, unable in his old age to make any more active resistance, he attempted to save his dignity by solemnly protesting, at Lambeth, in the presence of a few notaries, against any statutes that might be passed in Parliament in contravention of the authority of the Pope and the privileges of the See of Canterbury. (30) It is not easy to conjecture any purpose that could have been promoted by such a protest, which was of course studiously kept secret; it is easy enough, however, to understand, that under a leader who thus retired from the open contest to protest in private, the cause of the clergy was hopeless: they were already "demoralized," and defeat was inevitable. The bishops were thus thoroughly alive to the necessity of caution in proceeding against Latimer, so as not to provoke public indignation by any summary or unjust measure; and Latimer, for his part, was equally cautious not to commit himself, for he believed that a man ought not to sacrifice his life except for a very worthy reason. For six weeks, therefore, the examination continued without any result; and, at the end of that time, Stokesley, having failed to implicate him in any charge of heresy, referred the case to Convocation.
On March 11, 1532, therefore, Latimer was summoned before Convocation, (31) and was then required to subscribe certain articles, so that he might be compelled either to maintain what would be considered as downright heresy, or apparently to sanction all the abuses that he had so often and so earnestly denounced. He refused point blank to subscribe. (32) A second time he was asked, and again refused. A third time he was asked, and again declined absolutely to subscribe. For this obstinacy the Archbishop pronounced him contumacious, and excommunicated him; and Latimer was ordered to be kept in custody in Lambeth till Convocation had determined what further course should be adopted. The articles were the following :-
1. I believe that there is a purgatory to purge the souls of the dead.
2. That the souls in purgatory are holpen by the masses, prayers, and alms of the living.
3. That the saints in heaven pray for us as mediators.
4. That the saints should be honoured.
5. That the invocation of saints is profitable.
6. That pilgrimages and oblations to the relics and sepulchres of saints are meritorious.
7. That persons under a vow of perpetual chastity may not marry without a dispensation from the Pope.
8. That the keys of binding and loosing committed to St. Peter remain with his successors the Bishops of Rome, even though they live wickedly; and were not given to laymen.
9. That fasting, prayer, and other good works merit favour at God's hands.
10. That persons forbidden by the Bishop to preach, should not preach till they have purged themselves before him.
11. That Lent and other fasts should be observed.
12. That in every one of the seven sacraments grace is obtained by those who rightly receive.
13. That consecrations and benedictions are laudable and profitable
14. That the crucifix, and other images of saints should be kept in churches as memorials, and to the honour and worship of Jesus Christ and his saints.
15. That it is laudable to deck those images and to burn candles before them.
These articles are nearly the same as those that Crome had been compelled to sign, and had been drawn up with great ingenuity. For Latimer was not yet prepared to give a categorical denial to the truth of any one of them, considered as a simple theological dogma; yet by subscribing them he seemed to be sanctioning all those hideous abuses which he had been for years denouncing. They all belonged to that wide catalogue of what he was accustomed to call "voluntary things;" he had often condemned the abuses which sprung from them; he had endeavoured to show his hearers that they were of far less importance than the plain duties which God had commanded in Holy Scripture; he was even beginning to suspect that they had very little sanction in Scripture; yet he was not prepared to deny their abstract truth or theoretical lawfulness.
Ten days were allowed to elapse before he was again summoned before Convocation. He spent them in the greatest mental distress and uncertainty. To subscribe the articles was to lend his sanction to the preposterous over-esteem in which things merely voluntary, human inventions and institutions, were held; to continue to refuse was to expose his life to danger for what did not sufficiently appear to him to be an adequate cause. In his perplexity he wrote a pathetic letter to Warham. The excitement had begun to tell upon his health; he was distressed at being so long detained from his flock; and he complained of the hard and unfair manner in which he had been treated. He had been originally cited to appear before the Bishop of London on a specific charge; but the process had been transferred to Convocation, and extraneous questions had been added to the original accusation, till there seemed no prospect of any termination. Why, he asked, should he thus be compelled to subscribe to the opinions of others obtruded upon him? If his preaching had been obscure, he was ready to explain it; for he had never preached anything contrary to the truth, or the decrees of the fathers, or (as far as he knew) the Catholic faith. He had, he admitted, desired to reform the judgment; of the common people; and to teach them to distinguish between such duties as God had appointed for every man to walk in, and such as were voluntary, which men undertook of their own strength and pleasure.
"Images, I own, are lawful; it is lawful to go on pilgrimages; it is lawful to pray to saints: it is lawful to care for the souls in purgatory; but these things, which are merely voluntary, are to be kept in such moderation, that God’s commandments, which are of necessary obligation, be not deprived of their just value. But what can be more unseemly, than to employ our preaching in that which God has not commanded; whilst those things which are commanded, thereby fall into neglect?"
"It cannot be denied," he proceeds, "that there are, and have long been amongst us, intolerable abuses. Why, then, should a preacher be required to encourage works which, though they were seldomer (not to say never) performed, I do not see that the Christian religion would lose anything? Is any one blind to the manifest abuses of many things? Does any one see them without regret, without endeavouring to remove them? And when will they be removed if preachers continually recommend the use of the things without ever saying a word against the abuses? In such a case the abuses are sure to prevail and be perpetuated. Christ has ordered us to preach not all things which you choose to esteem necessary, but those things which He has commanded. And let us, for God's sake, endeavour with all our energy, to preach the doctrines of God, lest we become corrupt traffickers in preaching rather than true preachers; especially since men are very averse to Divine things and so active about their own affairs as to need no spur, being miserably deceived by a mistaken estimate of things, and innate superstition derived from their parents; faults which we shall scarce be able to amend by any preaching, however frequent, however pure and sincere. May God provide the remedy; but in these evil days, those who themselves ought to preach, hinder those who are both willing and able, or compel men to preach who are mere traffickers for gain, so keeping the unfortunate people in superstition and vain confidence. For these reasons, most reverend father, I dare not subscribe the bare propositions submitted to me, because I am unwilling, by any little authority of mine, to perpetuate this popular superstition, lest in so doing I should bring damnation on myself. It is not pride that keeps me from subscribing these articles, which you have so often to my extreme distress asked me to subscribe. It cannot but be blameworthy not to obey the fathers and rulers of the Church; but they also must take heed what and whom they command, since there are occasions on which one must obev God rather than man." (33)
Latimer's arguments were unanswerable, but they probably were of much less avail with Warham than the influence of Latimer's Court friends. Butts and Cromwell, we may believe, were industriously mediating between Latimer and his enemies, seeking to induce him to moderate his opinions, and them to depart from their demands; and to their intercession probably may be ascribed the compromise that was proposed on Latimer's next appearance before Convocation. On March 21, he again stood before his judges, and the Bishops at once offered to release him from the sentence of excommunication pronounced upon him, if he would consent to subscribe the eleventh and fourteenth articles, of those originally presented to him, and apologise for what had passed. He assented to the proposal, which, after the severities of the previous autumn, must have seemed to Stokesley an unprecedented exhibition of leniency; and he hoped at last to be restored to freedom. It was not, however, the intention of the Bishops to let him off so easily. He was obliged on bended knees to apologise; to ask pardon from Stokesley, who presided in the absence of Warham; and to read the following ignominious confession :- (34)
"My Lords, I do confess that I have misordered myself very far, in that I have so presumptuously and boldly preached, reproving certain things; by which the people that were infirm, hath occasion of ill. Wherefore I ask forgiveness of my misbehaviour; I will be glad to make amends; and I have spoken indiscreetly in vehemence of speaking, and have erred in some things." He then humbly requested to be absolved from the sentence of excommunication pronounced against him; but Convocation was in no hurry to bring matters to a definite conclusion, and remanded him for three weeks, hoping, doubtless, to wring still further concessions from him. He was brought before them again on April 10; and, according to the records of Convocation, (35) he now of his own accord signed (36) all the articles except the eleventh and fourteenth (which he had previously subscribed), and was formally absolved, but was still to remain in London, and was to appear before them yet again ere he received permission to return to his country rectory. The truth was, whispers had reached the ears of the Bishops of a new offence committed by Latimer. His case had excited considerable public interest, and the report of his submission and recantation had been, no doubt, circulated with triumphant alacrity by those who had been offended at his preaching. Among others, Greenwood, one of his old antagonists at Cambridge, had heard of his fall, and had expressed the greatest exultation at his open abandonment of his doctrines. Latimer was stung to the quick when informed of Greenwood's tone of victorious assumption, and wrote an indignant reply, all the more indignant, perhaps, because his conscience had also been suggesting the same accusations that Greenwood had uttered against him.
"Master Greenwood. I pray your goodness be charitable; in these evil days one must not believe every thing one hears, but, if all be truth that I hear. I must accuse you of a grievous lack of Christian charity. I have plenty of enemies, even if you were anxious to befriend me; plenty of calumnious slander is uttered against me, even if you should remain silent; you shall give an account of every idle word, how much more of every mischievous one! As to my preaching, as I was not conscious of having preached any error, I have not made any public acknowledgment of any error; though, peradventure, more out" [i.e. outspoken] "some time than well advised, not treating the 'righteous Word which can save the souls,' with such reverence, majesty, or gravity, as either I ought, or I would have had; nor with due discretion at all times; having respect to the time, and the rudeness and the rashness of the people. . . . And yet, peradventure, the misbehaviour of the people might as well be imputed to other things as to my preaching; but yet I will not be contentious. As to the people, though I will have more respect to their capacity, yet as to my old preaching, I will not change the verity; and I will with all diligence, according to my promise in my writings, do all that is in me to reprove their infirmity." (37)
The letter, of course, came into the hands of the Bishops, and was naturally enough interpreted by them as an attempt to resile from the articles subscribed. Latimer's submission, would be fruitless, if he were allowed to preach the same doctrine as before, and to boast that he had never acknowledged any error in his teaching; he was therefore again summoned before Convocation, on April 15, to answer for his letter to Greenwood. His case was remanded to April 19, and when he appeared before his judges on that day, seeing no hope of any escape from these interminable proceedings, he appealed to Henry. This bold step, which was a practical recognition of the great declaration of the previous year that the King was the supreme head of the Church and clergy of England, was no doubt recommended by Cromwell, and was worthy of Cromwell's sagacity. (38) It was flattering Henry on his weakest point, and was certain to secure his protection, except for gross and palpable heresy, such as could not yet be charged against Latimer. There is reason to believe that he was conducted into Henry's presence on thus appealing to his jurisdiction, and was required to explain his conduct and doctrines to the Sovereign, who specially delighted in a theological discussion; and it was probably Henry's advice that guided Latimer in his subsequent proceeding. Such at least seems to be implied in a document in the State Paper Office, which is unhappily in a state of tantalizing mutilation. (39)
On the understanding, therefore, that Latimer was to make a fall and explicit apology, and to promise for the future more care in his preaching, Henry approved of his appeal; and Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, was instructed to intimate to Convocation the King's desire that Latimer should be forgiven and received into favour.
Once more, therefore, for the last time, Latimer appeared before Convocation, on April 22, and on his knees acknowledged that "whereas he had aforetime confessed, that he had heretofore erred, meaning that it was only error of discretion, he had since better seen his own acts, and searched them more deeply, and doth acknowledge that he hath not erred only in discretion, but also in doctrine, and that he was not called before the said lords but upon good and just grounds, and hath been by them charitably and favourably treated; and whereas he hath aforetime misreported of the lords, he acknowledges that he hath done ill in it, and desires them humbly to forgive him, and whereas he is not of ability to make them recompense, he will pray for them." (40) On this submission, he was by the King's express desire received into favour, with the provision that if he relapsed, the old charges should be revived. Finally, having promised to obey the law, and keep the mandates of the Church, he was absolved by Stokesley; and once more, after three months' cruel annoyance, he was a free man.
This is the darkest page in Latimer's history, and no attempt has here been made in any way to conceal or extenuate his weakness. Something might no doubt be urged in his defence: he was constitutionally weak; he was over-persuaded by his friends; he was overawed by Henry; he had not been guilty of apostacy, for he still honestly adhered to almost all the doctrines of the Romish Church. But making all possible allowance for these considerations, it cannot be denied that Latimer's conduct on his trial was unworthy of his character and of his position. Caution and prudence in preserving life are admirable virtues; but there are emergencies when it becomes all true men to face danger, and to recognise that there are causes more sacred even than life. His timidity could not but have a disastrous effect wherever his influence extended; the friends of the Reformation would be perplexed and alarmed at this weakness in one who seemed their bravest leader; its enemies would be more than ever convinced that, by the proper threats of severity, heresy might be effectually crushed. Before Latimer left London for his country parish, he had an interview with a layman lying in Newgate under sentence of death for teaching Reformed doctrines, which must have made him feel heartily ashamed of his culpable caution, and must have caused him to ask himself whether in his excessive prudence he had not almost been guilty of " denying Christ."
On the same day, April 19, when Latimer was explaining his letter to Greenwood before Convocation, Stokesley's Vicar-General was presiding at the trial of Bainham, a relapsed heretic. The son of a Gloucestershire knight, a learned lawyer, a man of eminent charity and piety, Bainham was well known and highly esteemed as "a singular example to his profession." (41) He was a diligent and devout reader of Holy Scripture; he frequented the preaching of Crome and Latimer; he had married the widow of Simon Fish, the author of the famous " Supplication of Beggars;" and was of course a suspected man. In the end of 1531, he had been accused to More, and was, by the Chancellor's order, taken to his residence in Chelsea, and whipped at the " Tree of Truth," in his garden. Bainham, however, was resolute, and neither confessed nor recanted anything. He refused to name any of his associates, or to disclose where his books were concealed. Enraged at his firmness, More sent him to the Tower, and stood over him, it is said, while he was racked till he was almost lame: but Bainham still remained unmovable. His wife, too, was sent to the Fleet, and an attempt was made to extract a confession from her; but from such a woman, that had been twice "so husbanded," no secrets were to be wrung by any indignity. Bainham was again examined before More and Stokesley; and his answers on the doctrines of purgatory and the invocation of saints, exhibited a boldness and a knowledge of Scripture, such as any of the Reforming preachers might have envied. Finally, after two months' further imprisonment, he was induced to make a modified recantation, and was fined, and set at liberty in February, 1532, just when Stokesley had directed all his energies to the hunting down of Latimer.
But his conscience refused to be pacified; he felt that he had denied his Master, and like Peter, he wept, and went about bewailing his fall. He had scandalized the faithful community with whom he worshipped, and he felt that some apology was due to them. He went accordingly to the warehouse in Bow Lane, where this first Protestant congregation assembled to worship, and asked them to forgive him. Even this did not satisfy him; he resolved in a still more public manner to signify his contrition. On the following Sunday, with Tyndale's New Testament in his hand, and the same writer's Obedience of a Christian Man in his bosom, he entered his parish church of St. Austin's, and standing up in his place before the whole congregation, confessed with many tears that he had denied his Saviour, and warned them all to beware of being seduced by the example of his weakness. "Such a hell as was in his bosom," he declared, "he would not again feel for all the world's wealth." It was not difficult to foresee the result of such proceedings, which were a formal challenge to Stokesley; Bainham was again apprehended, and refusing all inducements to recant, he was condemned to be burned at Smithfield on the last day of April.
Latimer had just been set free after his humiliating submission to Convocation; and before leaving London, he, at the urgent entreaty of his friends, Ralph and William Morice, paid a visit to Bainham in Newgate, in order to understand the precise ground of his condemnation, which, it seems, was somewhat disputed, and to comfort him to take his death patiently. On the evening, therefore, before the day appointed for the martyrdom, Latimer and his companions visited Newgate, and when they "were come down into the dungeon, where all things seemed utterly dark, there they found Bainham, sitting upon a couch of straw, with a book and a wax candle in his hand, praying and reading thereupon." (42) Latimer, full of that unhappy caution which had been inspired into him by his Court friends, and which he cherished as the only defence of his conduct, began the conversation. "Mr. Bainham, we hear say that you are condemned for heresy to be burnt, and many men are in doubt wherefore you should suffer; and I, for my part, am desirous to understand the cause of your death; assuring you that I do not allow that any man should consent to his own death, unless he had a right cause to die in. Let not vain-glory overcome you in a matter that men deserve not to die for; for therein you shall neither please God, do good to yourself nor your neighbour; and better it were for you to submit yourself to the ordinances of men, than so rashly to finish your life without good ground. And, therefore, we pray you to let us to understand the articles that you are condemned for."
Bainham recapitulated the articles. He had spoken of Thomas-a-Becket, the great patron saint of the South East of England, as a traitor. "That," said Latimer, emphatically, "is no cause at all worthy for a man to take his death upon."
"I spoke also against purgatory," Bainham proceeded, "that there was no such thing; but that it picked men's purses; and against satisfactory masses" (i.e. against the doctrine that the mass was an atonement or sacrifice for sins).
"Marry," said Latimer, "in these articles your conscience may be so stayed, that you may seem rather to die' [i,e. it may seem your duty rather to die] "in the defence thereof, than to recant both against your conscience, and the Scriptures also. But yet beware of vain-glory; for the devil will be ready now to infect you therewith, when you shall come into the multitude of the people."
After thus cautioning him against the imaginary danger of sacrificing his life simply out of pure vain-glory, Latimer encouraged him to take his death quietly and patiently. Bainham thanked him heartily, and having doubtless perceived Latimer's own weak point, he added, "I likewise do exhort you to stand to the defence of the truth; for you that shall be left behind had need of comfort" [strength] "also, the world being so dangerous as it is;" and so spake many comfortable words to Latimer. After some further converse they departed; and the next day (April 30) Bainham was burned, constant and undaunted to the end.
In the beginning of May, therefore, we suppose that Latimer returned, after an absence of four months, to resume the duties of his parish. The words of Bainham, as we shall see, had not been like water spilt upon the ground; they had produced a deep impression on Latimer's mind, and compelled him not only to pass in judgment his own conduct, contrasting so strongly with that of Bainham, but also to examine more carefully than he had yet done, the Scriptural authority for those doctrines which he was still prepared to admit as true, while protesting against the gross abuses by which they were accompanied. He began to inquire whether the doctrines themselves were not abuses, whether purgatory was not, as Bainham had styled it, an ecclesiastical device invented to pick men's purses, and totally destitute of any Scriptural sanction. For some time after his return, we have no authentic record of his proceedings: his parish furnished him with interesting pastoral labour; his leisure hours would be spent in thought, in study, in prayer for Divine guidance and help, and in a more careful examination of the Scriptural grounds of his religious teaching.
The two great controversies which had so long convulsed and divided England, the divorce, and the question of the Royal supremacy which had sprung out of it, were meantime drawing to a close. In the month of May, just as Latimer had returned home, it was enacted that "no constitution should be promulgated by the clergy unless the King had first approved the same." The legislative powers of Convocation were thus annihilated; and the Church that had so often bearded the Majesty of England was muzzled and silenced. As before, Convocation attempted to throw an air of dignity over their fall. They declared that "having special trust and confidence in Henry's most high and excellent wisdom, his princely goodness and fervent zeal to the promotion of God's honour and Christian religion, and specially in his incomparable learning far exceeding that of all other kings that they had read of," (43) they promised that during the King's life they would forbear to enact any constitutions without his licence. Henry was too conscious of his own power to grudge them this little piece of bravado; and on May 15, the clergy assented to the Act which terminated their independent legislative authority in England. Next day, Sir Thomas More resigned his Chancellorship, unwilling to survive the glory of that Church of which he had been for some years the chief ornament and defence.
The long-drawn divorce controversy was also verging to its termination. Negotiations were still prosecuted at the Papal Court, but with no great energy. The Pope's counsellors were suspicious of Henry's policy. The abrogation of the power of Convocation filled them with distrust. The story of Latimer's troubles, also, had reached Rome; and the Pope grievously complained that a priest who had been imprisoned by the Archbishop of Canterbury had been set free on appealing to the King. (44) Everything portended a speedy rupture. Henry, who had waited with exemplary patience till all hope of obtaining the Papal sanction to his divorce was desperate, at last determined to take the final step by marrying Anne Boleyn.
An unforeseen occurrence delayed the marriage for a time. On August 23, 1532, "Warham, Archbishop of Canterbury, died; and until a successor was duly consecrated by the authority of the customary Papal bulls, it would have been the height of rashness to take any step that would completely alienate the Pope. Writers of history have enlarged upon Henry's violent passion for Anne Boleyn, and his uncontrollable temper, impatient of all opposition; but in truth Henry proceeded throughout with the greatest caution and prudence, and never allowed his emotions to lead him to any action that might create embarrassment in the succession to the throne. His proposed marriage was therefore delayed till the Bulls for consecrating the new Archbishop were procured from Rome. Much depended upon the character of Warham's successor; for though shorn of some of his dignity, the Primate of England could not but exert an important influence on the Church at such a crisis as that which was now imminent. Henry's choice, directed by a Higher Hand, fell on Cranmer, and he could not have made a wiser selection. In point of learning, prudence, piety and integrity, no man in England was better qualified than Cranmer to discharge the duties of so responsible an office; and to his influence, direct or indirect, may be ascribed most of the beneficial measures of Henry's subsequent reign. Cranmer at first declined the offered advancement, but on Henry's renewed and repeated request that he would accept it, he at last consented; and it only remained to procure the Bulls for his consecration from Clement.
In the beginning of January, 1533, accordingly, Henry requested Clement to forward the necessary Bulls. But scarcely were the royal messengers despatched when a Bull arrived from Rome, written by the Pope some two months before, under the inspiration of the Emperor (who had heard some rumour of Henry's contemplated marriage), ordering Henry in the most peremptory manner to dismiss Anne forthwith from the Court. The tone of the despatch was too much for Henry to bear; it was the crowning insult, and at once precipitated the conclusion. As soon as he had received it, he was privately married to Anne, by Borland Lee, one of his chaplains; the marriage being kept secret, no doubt, lest it should be known at Rome before the Bulls for Cranmer's consecration were sent off to England. This irrevocable step was taken on January 25,1588.
In the beginning of March the long-expected Bulls, the last that Henry ever solicited, arrived; and on March 30, Cranmer was formally consecrated. As Henry had no longer any reason for courting the favour of the Pope, the final step for settling the divorce was now taken in Parliament. It was declared that "the Crown of England was imperial, and the nation a complete body in itself, with full power to give justice in all causes spiritual and temporal: appeals to Rome," it was added, "had been found to be fruitful in expense and annoyance, and delay and miscarriage of justice;" therefore it was enacted that all causes, whether they concerned the King or any of his subjects, were in future to be determined in England, notwithstanding any inhibitions or Bulls or appeals to Rome; and any one procuring a Bull hereafter was liable to the penalties of the Law of Provisors. (45) Nothing now remained but to pronounce the formal divorce of Henry and Catherine. Cranmer was, accordingly, authorized to hold a court in the monastery of Dunstable, near Catherine's residence at Ampthill, and finally dispose of the question that had disturbed the peace of Europe for six years. Sentence of divorce was of course speedily pronounced; for the question had been practically decided years before, and only awaited a judge with full authority to declare that the marriage, as contracted in opposition to the laws of God, had been, ab initio, null and void. A few days afterwards, Cranmer confirmed Henry's marriage with Anne; and on May 28, the new Queen was conducted to the Tower with a gorgeous state and magnificence; "So comely done as never was like in any time nigh to our remembrance." (46) On Whit Sunday (June 1), she was solemnly crowned in Westminster Abbey. Four months later, on September 7, she gave birth to her famous daughter, Elizabeth, to the intense joy of Henry, who at once caused her to be created Princess of Wales; and rejoiced in her birth not only as strengthening the succession, but as a token that Heaven had not disapproved of a marriage which many of his subjects had threatened with the curse of God.
All these occurrences in the political world were favourable to the progress of the Reformation in England. The long-established Papal supremacy had been abolished; the power of the Church had been seriously curtailed; and though Henry still remained as sincerely attached as ever, to the old theology, the persons of chief influence around him, Cromwell, Cranmer, and Anne Boleyn, were all more or less favourably disposed towards the doctrines of the Reformers. Perhaps it was this which emboldened Latimer in the spring of 1533 to break the silence which he had observed since his return from London, and to preach more clearly and openly than before against the superstitions and abuses which constituted almost the whole of the popular religion of those around him. In March, 1533, at the invitation of several priests, he preached in Bristol on the second Sunday in Lent (March 9), in the Churches of St. Nicholas and the Black Friars; and on the following day in St. Thomas's Church. Whether from the unusual boldness of his words, or the peculiarly excitable temperament of his hearers, his sermons produced a wonderful effect. All Bristol rang with them; and the citizens were divided into two rival factions, who fiercely attacked, or boldly defended the Reformer's opinions, as they were themselves disposed to reject or to favour the Reformation. The hostile party among the priests were alarmed at this outbreak of zeal, and determined, if possible, to prevent its growth by the interposition of authority. Complaint was made to Convocation in a letter, which explains to us the tenor of Latimer's sermons in Bristol.
"Right Worshipful Master, (47) it may like you to be advertised, that upon the second Sunday this Lent, at Bristol, there preached one Latimer. And, as it is reported, he hath done much hurt among the people by his said preaching, and soweth errors. His fame is there, and in most parts of the diocese. He said that our Lady was a sinner, and that she ought not to be worshipped of the people, nor any of the saints. Exclaimeth upon pilgrimage. And also where the Gospel the said Sunday, specifying of the woman of Canaan's calling upon Christ to help her, and how the disciples prayed for her, saying, 'Send her away, because she crieth after us;' the same Latimer declared, in his said preaching, that the woman of Canaan, by the desire and prayer of the disciples of Christ for her, rather fared the worse than the better. And divers other opinions vented in his preaching, fully against the determination of the Church, whereby he hath very sore infect the said town of Bristol, as it is, reported. The said Latimer is assigned for to preach again at Bristol, the Wednesday in Easter week, except by your commandment unto the Dean there, he be denied and forbid to preach. The good Catholic people in the said town do abhor all such his preaching. The fellow dwelleth within the diocese of Bath" [Salisbury], "and certain times cometh into my Lord's diocese of Worcester. This doing such hurt, I am required to certify your mastership of this wretched being in his abusions; and that ye would write unto the Dean of Bristol, to forbid and deny the said Latimer to preach there, or within any part of my said Lord’s diocese. .... This xviii. day of March.
The suggestions of the writer were speedily put in execution. On March 26, it was complained in Convocation, that notwithstanding his submission and promise of obedience in the previous year, Latimer had again preached in Bristol against the teaching of the Church; and, at the instance of Gardiner, a copy of his submission was transmitted to Bristol, to be employed against him in any way that might seem most advisable. (49) This was of course a "lame and impotent conclusion," not likely to arrest Latimer in his career; but Convocation was painfully sensible that its power was now abridged. A more effectual expedient, however, was still within their reach; and though the Mayor himself had appointed Latimer to preach again in Bristol at Easter, a prohibition was issued forbidding him to preach anywhere within the diocese of Worcester, without the Bishop's licence; and thus he was for the time effectually silenced. Having thus made sure that their dreaded opponent could not reply to them, the good Catholics of Bristol next procured "certain preachers to blatter against him;" Wilson, one of Henry's chaplains; Powell, an ardent upholder of the Papal supremacy; and above all, Hubbardin, the great clerical buffoon of the day, (50) whose vulgar oratory and frantic gesticulations were expected to captivate the ignorant populace. Latimer was denounced as a heretic, and almost an atheist; and his opinions were perverted and misrepresented in the grossest manner. He did not lack defenders, however, and the controversy in Bristol became daily more embittered, and threatened to endanger the peace of the town. Nothing was heard but the din of theological discussion. He had attacked pilgrimages, and other superstitious practices; and his opponents exhausted their ingenuity in devising arguments in their defence. Some of their arguments were amusingly whimsical. Pilgrimages, for example, were defended from the passage of Scripture which promises to reward a hundred-fold all who forsake house and brethren for Christ's sake. '' Whosoever goeth on pilgrimage to John Thorne, to our Lady of Walsingham, to Saint Anne in the Wood," so Dr. Powell argued, "left his father and mother and brethren for the time that he was from home; therefore our Lord's promise applied to him, and therefore, let him put in the box at the shrine of the saint, whatever he would, he should receive a hundred times as much more in the present world, and in the world to come everlasting life!" (51) Latimer was naturally indignant at being deprived of any opportunity of defending himself, and explaining his real opinions. He brought his opponents before the Mayor and Council, and challenged them to establish any of the accusations they so freely launched against him, but they made no answer; "they had both place and time," he complains, "to slander me and to belie me, but they had neither place nor time to hear me, when I was ready to justify all that I had said." (52) One of his adversaries, however, was bold enough to hold communication with him; John Hilsey, Prior of the Black Friars, came and discussed his teaching with him, and was so satisfied with his explanation of his doctrines, that he became his friend, and was subsequently one of his most efficient supporters in promoting the Reformation in England. (53)
At last the disturbance in Bristol became so formidable as to attract the notice of Cromwell; and, in the beginning of July, Commisioners were appointed to investigate the whole proceedings, and to report to the Council. Latimer's opponents had allowed their zeal to outrun their discretion; in denouncing his heresy, they had made themselves amenable to the law. They had condemned the recent legislation of Parliament, and had censured Henry's divorce, and his marriage with Anne Boleyn. Powell had even gone so far as to declare that Henry, by putting away his first wife, and marrying another without the dispensation of the Church, "corrupted and infected the people with evil example of living;" and Hubbardin had maintained the supremacy and infallibility of the Papal See, with sundry oblique reflections on the proceedings of the King and the Parliament, in such a manner as to occasion no little offence and grief to all loyal subjects in Bristol. (54)
The Commissioners examined many witnesses, and sent voluminous evidence to Cromwell, much of which is still preserved among the State Papers. The champions of the Church began to discover, to their sad discomfiture, that the good old days, when a heretic might be pleasantly hunted to death, were gone. Already the legislation of Parliament had completely altered the position of the Church in England, and the clergy were no longer able to carry matters with so high a hand. The Mayor of Bristol caused several of the priests who had been the most vehement to be apprehended and imprisoned; others found it convenient to disappear for a time from the neighbourhood; Hubbardin's vulgar eloquence could not save him from the humiliation of being sent to jail; and, on the whole, Latimer's enemies were driven with disgrace from the field. (55) In every point they were foiled. They had procured a prohibition against his preaching without the licence of the Bishop of the diocese in which Bristol was situated; but Cranmer gave him licence to preach anywhere within the province of Canterbury; and he seems to have been again permitted to make a public exposition in Bristol of the doctrines which had excited so much controversy. Nor was this all; the antagonists of Latimer had rendered themselves objects of suspicion in their turn to Cromwell and Cranmer, and the latter hesitated for some time to allow even Hilsey to preach in the province of Canterbury, until he was satisfied that he had not offended against the Royal prerogative, as Hubbardin and Powell had done. (56) According to a local chronicler, Cranmer visited Bristol in the autumn, and remained there several days, "reforming of many things that were amiss, and preaching in St. Augustine's Abbey, and other places." (57) We can imagine how Latimer must have felt comforted by the presence of a friendly adviser, into whose ear he could pour the story of all his wrongs, and on whose support he could confidently rely in all difficulties. One favour only was wanting to complete Latimer's victory. His antagonists had been silenced; he had been restored to full liberty as a preacher; but the King might hare been prejudiced against him by the reports which his enemies maliciously circulated, and he was anxious to have an opportunity of again preaching before him, to show how much he had been misrepresented and belied. (58) Even this wish he was enabled to gratify, through the assistance of Cranmer, who was anxious, for his own sake, to convince Henry that he had not been guilty of any indiscretion in granting Latimer free licence to preach anywhere within the province of Canterbury, in spite of the prohibition of any of the suffragan bishops. This fierce six months' controversy was not without its beneficial influence upon Latimer's theology. It had snapped a few more of the bonds by which he was still held fast to the old traditional doctrinal system, which he was so loath to leave. It made him feel how untenable was the position to which he had so fondly clung; how utterly baseless was his cherished belief, that all that was required was to purge the Church of a few gross abuses that had sprung up, in the course of ages, around her venerable creeds and her devout ritual. It has become customary of late for men to regret what they call the extreme and unnecessary violence which accompanied the Reformation, and to wish that the Reformers had contented themselves with stripping away what was manifestly false and superstitious, without introducing such sweeping and radical changes into the doctrine and worship of the Church. The history of Latimer shows the groundlessness of this superficial remark. Never was Reformer more eager to retain every belief and practice which could plead any sanction of antiquity in its favour, or more careful to guard himself against the suspicion that he was opposing the legitimate use of any custom, while he was denouncing its abuse; yet his caution in no way disarmed the violence of his opponents; every petty abuse was a rich source of revenue to some ecclesiastical fraternity, and the most modest proposals for a Reformation of religion were denounced as the results of malicious and almost diabolical hatred of the truth.
The sermons of Latimer, which excited the ferment in Bristol, have not been preserved, but his defence of his opinions against the attacks of Powell, and his letters on the same subject to Hubbardin and Morice, have fortunately come down to us, and afford us an interesting view of his opinions at this time, at which we shall glance before passing on to consider the remainder of his career as rector of West Kington. Hubbardin had condemned the new learning as being of the devil, and not of God, and had had the effrontery to allege, in proof of his assertion, that the professors of the new learning lived naughtily, and were in the habit of persecuting priests. Latimer indignantly replied : -
"Your assertions are great blasphemies, and abominable lies, injurious both to God and His word, and (I fear) sin against the Holy Ghost. Ye call the Scripture the new learning, which I am sure is older than any learning which you wot to be the old. I pray you, was not the Scripture, if ye would contend, before your most ancient doctors, that ye can allege to have written of it? Was it not, afore they wrote upon it, better received, more purely understand, of more mighty working, than it is now, or since they wrote upon it? In St. Paul's time, when there were no writers upon the New Testament, but that the plain story was then newly put forth, were there not more converted by (I dare boldly say) two parties than there be at this hour, I will not say Christian men, but that profess the name of Christ? Is it not now the same Word as it was then? Is not the same Schoolmaster that taught them to understand it then, (which, as St. Peter saith, is the Spirit of God) alive, as well as He was then? Doth He not favour us now as well as He did then? Have we Him not now, as well as we had then?..... If you will say that you condemn not the Scripture, but Tyndale's translation, therein ye show yourself contrary to your words, for ye have condemned it in all other common tongues; so that it is plain that it is the Scripture, and not the translation that ye bark against, calling it new learning." (59)
Powell's accusations were more voluminous, and had some better foundation in fact, than Hubbardin's shameless diatribe. He had accused Latimer of asserting that the Virgin Mary was a sinner; and Latimer thus explains what he had taught on a subject, which has always been the centre of so much corruption and superstition. He had referred to the matter because some "priests had given so much to our Lady of Devotion without judgment, as though she had not needed Christ to save her. To prove Christ her Saviour, to make Christ a whole Saviour of all that be or shall be saved, I reasoned after this manner, that either she was a sinner or no sinner; if she were a sinner, then she was redeemed or delivered from sin by Christ, as other sinners be; if she were no sinner then she was preserved from sin by Christ; so that Christ saved her, and was her necessary Saviour, whether she sinned or no." Some of the Fathers had maintained that the Virgin was not without sin, but on that point Latimer refused to enter into discussion; he was willing to adhere to the common belief, but to his purpose it was quite immaterial to prove that she was or was not a sinner; in either case she still needed Christ as her Saviour. But "what need you to speak of this?" his opponents asked.
"Great need," he replied; "when men cannot be content that she was a creature saved, but as it were a Saviouress, (60) not needing salvation, it is necessary to set her in her degree, to the glory of Christ, Creator and Saviour of all that be or shall, be saved, I go not about to make our Lady a sinner, but to have Christ her Saviour. I would be as loth to dishonour our Lady as they, for verily she is worthy to be honoured. But they should both please and honour our Lady much better, to leave their sinful living, and keep themselves from sinfulness, as our Lady did, than so sinfully to lie to make our Lady no sinner: which, if they do not, they shall go to the devil certainly, though they believe that our Lady was no sinner, never so surely."
He had been accused of speaking disrespectfully of the Ave Maria.
"I never denied it," he rejoins; "I know it was a heavenly saluting or greeting of our Lady; but yet it is not properly a prayer, as the Lord's Prayer is. Saluting or greeting, lauding or praising, is not properly praying. The angel was sent to greet our Lady, and to annunciate and show the good-will of God towards her (and therefore tis called the Annunciation of our Lady); and not to pray to her. Shall the Father of heaven pray to our Lady? When the angel spake it, it was not properly a prayer: and is it not the same thing now that it was then? But as I deny not that we may say the Ave Maria (though we be not bidden of God as the angel was), yet it is but a superstition to think that a Pater Noster cannot be well said without an Ave Maria at its heel; and to teach men to say twenty Ave Marias for one Pater Noster, is not to speak the Word of God. One Ave Maria well said, and devoutly, with affection, sense, and understanding, is better than twenty-five said superstitiously. For we fantasy as though the very work and labour of flummering the Ave Maria is v