Part 20

Let us now see what a talent he hath at ergoteering: “If this be true,” saith he, “then to be a member of the church of England, one must assert, that either both churches are not parts of the Catholic, or that they are so parts, that there is a necessity of going from one to another.” He would be a strange member of the church of England, who should hold, that both churches are not parts of the Catholic, for then he must deny that parts are parts; for every true church is so far a part of the Catholic church. Therefore, I say, he must hold, though it be in some respects a part of the Catholic church, yet it may have so many errors and corruptions mixed with it, as may make it necessary for salvation to leave it. “The second,” he saith, “is nonsense.” How nonsense? He doth well to hope, that men may be saved that do not understand controversy, nor approach heaven in mood and figure. “A necessity of a change,” saith he, “consists not with their being parts, for parts constitute one whole, and leave not one and another to go to or from.” We are not speaking of the parts leaving one another, but of a person leaving one part to go to another. Suppose a pestilential disease rage in one part of the city, and not in another, may it not be necessary to leave one part, and go to the other, though they are both parts of the same city, and do not remove from one to the other? But he saith, with great assurance, “that necessity of change makes it absolutely impossible for both churches to be parts of the Catholic,” which plainly shews he never understood the terms of communion with both churches; for no church in the world can lay an obligation upon a man to be dishonest, _i.e._ to profess one thing, and to do another, which is dissimulation and hypocrisy; and no church can oblige a man to believe what is false, or to do what is unlawful; and rather than do either, he must forsake the communion of that church.

Thus I have given a sufficient taste of the spirit and reasoning of this gentleman.

As to the main design of the third paper, I declared that I considered it, as it was supposed, to contain the reasons and motives of the conversion of so great a lady to the church of Rome.

But this gentleman hath now eased me of the necessity of further considering it on that account: for he declares, “that none of those motives or reasons are to be found in the paper of her Highness,”[94] which he repeats several times. “She writ this paper, not as to the reasons she had herself for changing, &c. As for the reasons of it, they were only betwixt God and her own soul, and the priest with whom she spoke at last.”[95]

And so my work is at an end as to her paper; for I never intended to ransack the private papers, or secret narratives, of great persons; and I do not in the least question the relation now given, from so great authority as that he mentions, of the passages concerning her; and therefore I have nothing more to say as to what relates to the person of the Duchess.

But I shall take notice of what this defender saith, which reflects on the honour of the church of England.

(1.) “The pillars of the church established by law,” saith he, “are to be found but broken staffs by their own concessions.”[96] What! is the church of England _felo de se_? But how, I pray: “for after all their undertaking to heal a wounded conscience, they leave their proselytes finally to the scripture; as our physicians when they have emptied the pockets of their patients, without curing them, send them at last to Tunbridge waters, or the air of Montpellier.” As though the scripture were looked on by us as a mere help at a dead lift, when we have nothing to say. One would think he had never read the Articles of the church of England; for there he might have seen, that the scripture is made the rule and ground of our faith. And, I pray, whither should any persons be directed under trouble of mind, but to the word of God? Can any thing else give real satisfaction? Must they go to an infallible church? But whence should they know it to be infallible, but from the scriptures? So that on all hands persons must go to the scriptures, if they will have satisfaction. But this gentleman talks like a mere novice as to matters of faith, as though believing were a new thing to him, and he did not yet know that true faith must be grounded on divine revelation, which the pillars of our church have always asserted to be contained only in the scripture; and therefore whither can they send persons but to the scripture? But it seems he is got no farther than the collier’s faith; he believes as the church believes, and the church believes as he believes, and by this he hopes to be too hard for “a legion of devils.”

(2.) He saith, “we are reformed from the virtues of good living,”[97] _i.e._ from the devotions, mortifications, austerities, humility, and charity, which are practised in Catholic countries, by the example and precept of that lean, mortified apostle, St Martin Luther.

He knows we pretend not to canonize saints; and he may know, that a very great man in the church of Rome once said, “that the new saints they canonized would make one question the old ones.” We neither make a saint nor an apostle of Martin Luther, and we know of no authority he ever had in this church. Our church was reformed by itself, and neither by Luther nor Calvin, whom he had mentioned as well as the other, but for his lean and mortified aspect. But after all, Luther was as lean and mortified an apostle as Bishop Bonner; but a man of far greater worth, and fit for the work he undertook, being of an undaunted spirit. What a strange sort of calumny is this to upbraid our church, as if it followed the example and precept of Martin Luther? He knows how very easy it is for us to retort such things with mighty advantage; when for more than an age together that church was governed by such dissolute and profane heads of the church, that it is a shame to mention them; and all this by the confession of their own writers. But as to Luther’s person, if his crimes were his corpulency, what became of all the fat abbots and monks? “But they were no apostles, or reformers:” I easily grant it; but must God choose instruments, as some do horses, by their fatness to run races. As to Luther’s conversation, it is justified by those who best knew him, and are persons of undoubted reputation; I mean, Erasmus, Melancthon, and Camerarius. And as to matters in dispute, if he acted according to his principles, his fault lay in his opinions, and not in acting according to them.

But whether our church follow Luther or not, it is objected, “that we have reformed away the virtues of good living.” God forbid; but I dare not think there is any church in the world, where the necessity of good living is more earnestly pressed: but I confess, we of the church of England do think, the examples and precepts of Christ, and his apostles, are to be our rules for the virtues of good living; and, according to them, I doubt not, but there are as great examples of devotion, mortification, humility, and charity, as in any place whatsoever. But I am afraid this gentleman’s acquaintance did not lie much that way, nor doth he seem to be a very competent judge of the ways of good living, if he did not know how to distinguish between outward appearances and true Christian virtues. And, according to his way of judging, the disciples of the Pharisees did very much outdo those of our blessed Saviour, as appears by a book we esteem very much, called the New Testament: but if I mention it to him, I am afraid he should think I am “like the physicians, who send their patients to Tunbridge wells, or the air of Montpellier.”

(3.) “That two of our bishops, whereof one was primate of all England, renounced and condemned two of the established articles of our church.”

But what two articles were these? It seems “they wished we had kept confession, which, no doubt, was commanded of God, and praying for the dead, which was one of the ancient things of Christianity.” But which of our thirty-nine articles did they renounce hereby? I think I have read and considered them, as much as this gentleman, and I can find no such articles against confession, and praying for the dead. Our church, as appears by the office of the visitation of the sick, doth not disallow of confession in particular cases; but the necessity of it, in order to forgiveness, in all cases: And if any bishop asserted this, then he exceeded the doctrine of our church, but he renounced no article of it. As to the other point, we have an article against the Romish doctrine of purgatory, article 22d, but not a word concerning praying for the dead, without respect to it: But he, out of his great skill in controversy, believes, that prayer for the dead, and the Romish doctrine of purgatory, are the same; whereas, this relates to the deliverance of souls out of purgatory, by the suffrages of the living, which makes all the gainful trade of masses for the dead, &c; but the other related to the day of judgment, as is known to all who are versed in the writings of the ancient church. But this our church wisely passes over, neither condemning it, because so ancient, nor approving it because not grounded on scripture, and therefore not necessary to be observed.

(4.) But his great spite is at the reformation of this church, “which,” he saith, “was erected on the foundation of lust, sacrilege, and usurpation: and that no paint is capable of making lovely the hideous face of the pretended Reformation.”

These are severe sayings, and might be requited with sharper, if such hard words and blustering expressions had any good effect on mankind: But instead thereof, I shall gently wipe off the dirt he hath thrown in the face of our church, that it may appear in its proper colours.

And now this gentleman sets himself to ergoteering, and looks and talks like any “grim logician, of the causes which produced it, and the effects which it produced. The schism led the way to the Reformation, for breaking the unity of Christ’s church, which was the foundation of it; but the immediate cause of this, which produced the separation of Henry VIII. from the church of Rome, was the refusal of the Pope to grant him a divorce from his first wife, and to gratify his desires in a dispensation for a second marriage.”

Ergo, the first cause of the Reformation was “the satisfying an inordinate and brutal passion.” But is he sure of this? If he be not, it is a horrible calumny upon our church, upon King Henry VIII., and the whole nation, as I shall presently show. No, he confesses he cannot be sure of it: for, saith he, “no man can carry it so high as the original cause with any certainty:” and at the same time, he undertakes to demonstrate, “the immediate cause to be Henry the Eighth’s inordinate and brutal passion:” And afterwards affirms, as confidently as if he had demonstrated it, that “our Reformation was erected on the foundations of lust, sacrilege, and usurpation. Yet,” saith he, “the king only knew whether it was conscience or love, or love alone, which moved him to sue for a divorce.”[98] Then, by his favour, the king only could know what was the immediate cause of that which he calls the schism. Well! but he offers at some probabilities, that lust was the true cause. Is ergoteering come to this already? “But this we may say, if conscience had any part in it, she had taken a long nap of almost twenty years together before she awakened.” Doth he think that conscience doth not take a longer nap than this in some men, and yet they pretend to have it truly awakened at last? What thinks he of late converts? Cannot they be true, because conscience hath slept so long in them? Must we conclude in such cases, that “some inordinate passion gives conscience a jog at last? so that it cannot be denied,” he saith, “that an inordinate and brutal passion had a great share, at least, in the production of the schism.” How, cannot be denied! I say, from his own words, it ought to be denied; for he confesses “none could know but the king himself;” he never pretends that the king confessed it; how then cannot it be denied? yea, how dare any one affirm it? especially when the king himself declared, in a solemn assembly, in these words, saith Hall, (as near, saith he, as I could carry them away,) speaking of the dissatisfaction of his conscience—“For this only cause, I protest before God, and in the word of a prince, I have asked counsel of the greatest clerks in Christendom; and for this cause I have sent for this legate, as a man indifferent, only to know the truth, and to settle my conscience, and for none other cause, as God can judge.” And both then, and afterwards, he declared, that his scruples began upon the French ambassador’s making a question about the legitimacy of the marriage, when the match was proposed between the Duke of Orleans and his daughter; and he affirms, that he moved it himself in confession to the bishop of Lincoln, and appeals to him concerning the truth of it in open court. Sanders[99] himself doth not deny, that the French ambassador (whom he calls the bishop of Tarbe, afterwards Cardinal Grammont; others say it was Anthony Vesey, one of the presidents of the parliament of Paris) did start this difficulty in the debate about this marriage of the king’s daughter; and he makes a set speech for him, wherein he saith, “that the king’s marriage had an ill report abroad;” but then he adds, “that this was done by the king’s appointment, and that Cardinal Wolsey put him upon it;” but he produces no manner of proofs concerning it, but only, “that it was so believed by the people at that time, who cursed the French ambassador.” As though the suspicions of the people were of greater authority than the solemn protestation of the king himself.

But I think it may be demonstrated, as far as such things are capable of it, from Sanders his own story, that the king’s first scruples, or the jogging of his conscience, as our author styles it, could not come from an inordinate passion to Ann Bolleyn; for he makes Cardinal Wolsey the chief instrument in the intrigue. Let us then see what accounts he gives of his motives to undertake it: he not only takes notice of the great discontent he took at the emperor Charles V., the queen’s nephew, but how studious he was upon the first intimation of the king’s scruples, to recommend to him the Duchess of Alençon, the King of France’s sister; and that, when there were none present but the king, Wolsey, and the confessor. Afterwards Wolsey was sent on a very splendid embassy into France, and had secret instructions to carry on the match with the King of France’s sister. But when he was at Calais, he received orders from the king to manage other matters as he was appointed, but not to say a word of that match. “At which,” saith Sanders,[100] “he was in a mighty rage, because he carried on the divorce for nothing more than to oblige the most Christian king wholly to himself by this marriage.” How could this be, if from the beginning of his scruples he knew the king designed to marry Ann Bolleyn? But Sanders thinks to come off with saying, “that Wolsey knew of the king’s love, but he thought he designed her only for his concubine.” But this is plainly to contradict himself; for before he said,[101] “that Wolsey knew from the beginning whom he intended to marry.” Besides, what reason could there be, if the king had only a design to corrupt her, that he should put himself and the world to so much trouble to sue out a divorce? for the divorce was the main thing aimed at in all the negociations at Rome; other applications had been more proper, if his design was only upon having her for a concubine; “but she would not be corrupted.” If this were the reason, he must again contradict himself, for he makes her a lewd vicious woman. And it doth not seem so probable, if she had been such a person as he describes her, that she would have put the king to so much trouble, and such a tedious method of proceeding, by so many forms of law. But again, Sanders saith,[102] “when she returned from France, and was at court, she found out what Wolsey designed;” which makes it evident, by Sanders his own words, that the design of the divorce was before the thoughts of Ann Bolleyn: and it seems very probable, that Cardinal Wolsey might carry on a public design by it, to draw the king off from the emperor, and to unite him with France. And the Pope at that time being highly displeased with the Emperor, he might think it no difficult thing to procure a dispensation, the King of France’s interest being joined with our king’s. Some have written, “that the Pope himself was in this intrigue at first;”[103] but seeing no proof of it, I dare not affirm it: It is sufficient for my purpose, that the first design was laid quite another way. I confess afterwards, when Wolsey, upon his return from France, saw how things were like to go, he struck in with the king’s humour, as appears by the letters of Ann Bolleyn to him; but yet carried himself so coldly afterwards in the matter of the divorce, that it proved one occasion of his fall. Thuanus, being an historian of great judgment, saw the inconsistencies of Sanders his relations; and therefore concludes, that Wolsey was surprised with the business of Ann Bolleyn, after he went into France, having notice sent him by his friends; and that Wolsey wholly aimed at the French match. Mezeray saith, “the cardinal could not foresee the love of Ann Bolleyn, but his design was to be revenged on the emperor;” and he questions whether the king were smitten with her, till Wolsey was sent into France; when the king so unexpectedly forbade him to proceed in that match, _cum summo eras dolore_, as Sanders confesses.[104] From all this we see plainly, that since Sanders makes Cardinal Wolsey the great contriver and manager of this business, the immediate cause of the schism could not be the love of Ann Bolleyn.

But we have other kind of proofs concerning this matter, besides Sanders his inconsistencies; and those shall be from some of the greatest and most active men of that time, and some remarkable circumstances.

The first is a person of unquestionable integrity, and accounted a martyr for his conscience at that time, I mean Sir Thomas More, then lord chancellor; who, after he had delivered to the House of Commons the original papers of the universities in favour of the divorce, he then said, “that all men should clearly perceive, that the king hath not attempted this matter of will and pleasure, as strangers say, but only for the discharge of his conscience, and the security of the succession to the crown.” Which was a reason alleged by the king himself, and seems to have been built on the grounds which Charles V. assigned for breaking his oath, which he made to marry the Lady Mary, by the first article of the treaty at Windsor. Lord Herbert owns,[105] that the emperor, to avoid the force of this treaty, had alleged something against the marriage between the king and his aunt. But another author, who lived much nearer the time, doth affirm,[106] “that, when the match was debated in the Spanish council, it was then said, that although the match between the king and his brother’s relict were not yet disputed, yet, if the king should die without issue male, rather than the kingdom should pass to foreigners, the English nation would dispute the validity of the marriage;” and to confirm this, in Sir Henry Spelman’s Manuscript Register of the proceedings of the Legatine Court about the divorce, subscribed by the three notaries there present, the witnesses deposed, “that at the time of the marriage, the people said commonly, that it was unfit one brother should marry the other brother’s wife.” And archbishop Warham, then upon oath, declared, “that he told King Henry VII., that the marriage seemed to him neither honourable nor well pleasing to God;” and he confesses the people then murmured at it, but that the murmuring was quieted by the Pope’s dispensation: So that all the satisfaction that was given about it, arose from the Pope’s extraordinary dispensing power with the laws of God, which was a thing vehemently opposed by many in the church of Rome; and the university of Bononia itself afterwards declared, “that the match was abominable, and that the Pope himself could not dispense with it;” and this they say was “after they had read Cardinal Cajetan’s defence of the marriage.” The like was done by the university of Padua, besides many others which I shall not mention, and are easily to be seen.

So that the succession to the crown by this match must depend upon an extravagant power in the Pope, which the Roman church itself never owned, and the wisest statesmen thought by no means fit to depend upon.

The notice of this debate in the Spanish council being sent over to Cardinal Wolsey, seems to have been the first occasion taken of starting the question about the lawfulness of the king’s marriage; which Wolsey, out of a private grudge to the Emperor, as well as for other reasons, was not wanting to carry on till he saw which way it was like to end. And the Pope himself was willing enough to grant the bull for the divorce, till he made a secret peace with the Emperor; and it is easy to see, that the Pope went forwards and backwards in the whole affair, merely as politic considerations moved him; which being fully known to so discerning a prince as Henry VIII., it gave him just occasion to question, whether that authority were so divine as was pretended, which, in so great a matter, did not govern itself by any rule of conscience, but by political measures.