An ecclesiastical biography : containing the lives of ancient fathers and modern divines, interspersed with notices of heretics and schismatics, forming a brief history of the church in every age

'r/Vi

j>

BR 1700 .H6 5 1845 "~v7Z~
Hook, Walter Farquhar, 179£

1875.
An ecclesiastical biography

A>

ECCLESIASTICAL BIOGRAPHY,

CONTAINING THE

fttbea of %lncitnt jFatfjera an& f&o&ern Efomes,

INTERSPERSED WITH NOTICES OF

HERETICS AND SCHISMATICS,

FORMING

A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE CHURCH IN EVERY AGE.

BY

WALTER FARQUHAR HOOK, D.D.

VICAR OF LEEDS.

VOL. IL.

LONDON :

P. AND j. rivington;

PARKER, OXFORD J J. AND J. J. DEIGHTON, CAMBRIDGE

T. HARRISON, LEEDS.

1846

LEEDS : G. CRAWSHAW, PRINTER.

PREFACE.

This Work will be continued in Monthly Parts,
and be ready, as before, for delivery with the maga-
zines. It is considered by many desirable to receive
the work in Parts, as it enables them, without
difficulty, to read it through, and so to obtain an
acquaintance with Ecclesiastical History, as well as
with the character and principles of our chief Saints
and Divines. Arrangements have been made to pub-
lish each future Part so as to render it complete in
itself; that is to say, any biography which is com-
menced will be given entire, although the average
•number of pages (60) be exceeded, a proportionate
deduction being made from the number of pages in
the succeeding Part. The price is fixed as low as
possible, and unless there were many subscribers to
the work, it could not be maintained.

PREFACE.

It was stated in the former volume that, although
the work is alphabetic ally arranged, a table would be
given, so that it might be read chronologically ; and
although the two first letters of the alphabet are not
yet completed, the reader will perceive from the
following table, that if he reads the Lives chrono-
logically, he will have already a history of the
Church, or of some considerable portion of it, in
almost every century. Only those names are inserted
in this table which belong to personages more or less
engaged in the public transactions of their age.

TABLE.

CENTURY

III.

CENTURY VIII.

St Anthony.

Alcuin.

St Alban.

CENTURY X.

CENTURY

IV.

(Elfric.

St Athanasius.

St Ambrose.

CENTURY XI.

St Augustine.
St Basil.
Arius.

Aldred.
Anselm.

Aerius
Aetius.

CENTURY XII.

Apolinarius.

St Bernard.

Arsenius.

Alexander of Blois

Basil of Ancyra.

Baldwin.

CENTURY

Y.

Barri.
Becket.

St Benedict.

Breuys.

CENTURY

VI.

Abelard.

Arnold of Brescia.

Augustine of Canterbury.

CENTURY

VII.

CENTURY XIII.

Adrian.

Albertus Magnus

Aidan.

Thomas Aquinas

Aldhelm.

Agnelli.

Bede.

Boniface of Canterbury

Benedict Biscop

Bonaventure.

TABLE.

CENTURY XIV.

Andreae.

Arundel.

Arminius.

Bradwarden.

Barlow.

Biddle.

Ailly.

Brown.

CENTURY XV.

CENTURY XVII

Beaufort, Cardinal.

Bancroft.

Bo-urcher.

Andrewes.

Adrian de Castello.

Abbot.

Aleander.

Alleine.

Bassarion.

Allestree.

Ambrose.

CENTURY XVI.

Arnauld.

Beaton.

Asheton.

Beccold.

Baronius.

Beza.

Barrow

Bilney.

Barwick.

Bonner.

Basire

Bourn.

Baxter.

Bale.

CENTURY XVII

Aylmer.

Alan.

Atterbury.

Baro.

Bedell.

Barnes.

Berkeley.

Adamson.

Beveridge.

Agricola.

Bossuet.

Ainsworth.

Blackburne.

Alley.

Blackwell.

Alsop.

Alexander.

Anderson.

Badcock.

ECCLESIASTICAL BIOGRAPHY

Basil, Saint. Saint Basil the great was born at
Csesarea, in Cappadocia, about the year 329. His parents
were person s of rank and wealth, distinguished yet more
by their Christian virtues, who had fled to the wilds of
Pontus, during the Maximinian persecution. His grand-
father on the mother's side had received the crown of
martyrdom. His father, whose profession was that of
rhetoric, was named Basil, and his mother's name was
Emmelia Under them he received a Christian education,
but he expresses himself as peculiarly indebted for the
formation of his mind, to his grandmother Macrina. In
writing to the Church of Neocsesarea, in after years, he
says, " what clearer evidence can there be of my faith, than
that I was brought up by my grandmother, blessed
woman, who came from you? I mean the celebrated
Macrina, who taught me the words of the blessed Gregory ;
(Gregory Thaumaturgus ;) which, as far as memory had
preserved down to her day, she cherished herself, while
she fashioned and formed me, being yet a child, upon the
doctrines of piety." And afterwards : "I have many
subjects of self-reproach, but thanks to the grace of God,
I have never given in to any false doctrine, nor varied in
my sentiments ; having always preserved those which my
blessed mother and my grandmother Macrina inspired in
me : these good principles have developed themselves with
my understanding as I have advanced in years, but the
seed was sown in me in my earliest youth, and such as it

VOL. II. A

2 BAS.

was, such has it brought forth.'' It is sometimes said that
the sons of widows generally turn out well : and this is
doubtless because of the many promises of God to the father-
less and widow : but in viewing second causes, we may say
that it is because so much of female tenderness, mixed with
consistent discipline, is brought to bear on the manly
character. No really great man, certainly no good man,
can exist, unless the heart has been cultivated as well as
the intellect ; unless to a powerful understanding be united
an affectionate disposition : aucl of the two, the cultivation
of the heart in man, the encouragement of the more gentle
sympathies and sentiments of our nature, is even more
important than the exercise of the mental faculties ;
though the character cannot be properly formed, unless to
both points attention be directed. This will account for
the fact that almost every man distinguished for a union
of virtue with genius, has been able to trace his excellence
to maternal, or at least to female superintendence in his
education. To this rule, we have seen that St Basil
formed no exception.

St Basil was eminently happy also in his father, who,
when he found him sufficiently grounded in the truth,
sent him, for the further education of his mind, first to
Caesarea, and then to Constantinople. At the former
place he became acquainted with St Gregory Nazianzen,
with whom he renewed his friendship on his removal to
Athens, where they both met again, being sent there, as
we should say, " to complete their education," though in
truth the education of a Christian mind never ceases.
The Christian Church is a school in which we take lessons
in godliness as long as life lasts. The characters of Basil
and of Gregory were so different, that later in life mis-
understandings occurred between them, without, however,
any permanent violation of that friendship which was
founded on a mutual admiration of each other's excel-
lence. But the friendship, it would seem, commenced,
and perhaps was kept up, by Gregory's extreme admiration
of Basil ; although Basil returned Gregory's affection, the

BAS. 3

enthusiasm of friendship was on Gregory's side. It was
in the year 351 that Basil entered the university of
Athens and found Gregory there, ready and anxious to
protect his friend from those little annoyances to which
fresh-men were exposed, but which the sedate disposition
of Basil was likely to resist. St Gregory gives us an
interesting account of the mode of living among the
young men of Athens, and in his funeral oration on the
death of St Basil, he adverts with his usual enthusiasm
to days gone by : " How dear," he says, " is Athens to my
remembrance ! It was there that I learned really to know
Basil. I went there in search of knowledge, and I found
happiness. We soon became every thing to each other ;
the same roof sheltered as the same table served us ; even
the same thoughts occupied our minds. We pursued our
studies with equal ardour ; we each sought success, that
great object of jealousy among men, and yet envy was
unknown between us. We disputed, we argued, not for
the honour of pre-eminence, but for the pleasure of yield-
ing it. It seemed as if our bodies were animated by the
same soul. Our daily occupation was the practice of
virtue : the care of living for our eternal hopes, and that of
detaching ourselves from this world, before we should be
called upon to quit it. Nothing was more noble in our
eyes than the endeavour to exalt each other above material
things, and increase our faith. We estranged ourselves
from such of our fellow students as were irregular in their
conduct or language, and associated only with those whose
conversation might be profitable to us. Our feet were
familiar with only two streets ; one to the church, and to
the holy teachers and doctors who there attended the
service of the altar, aud nourished the flock of Christ with
the food of life ; the other, which we held in less esteem,
to the schools, where we listened to our masters in the
sciences. Spectacles, diversions, and banquets, we aban-
doned to those who were unfortunate enough to take
pleasure in them. The sole business of our existem

4 BAS.

most glorious prerogative in our eyes, was to be called
Christians, and to be such."

In the year 357 Basil left Athens, though strongly
urged and entreated by his fellow-students, and even his
master, to remain longer among them, and hastened,
through Constantinople, to Caesarea, in the hope of seeing
his father, who was dangerously ill. This venerable
parent was dead before his arrival ; and settling at
Ceesarea Basil began to practise at the bar. The success,
and even adulation, which Basil had received at Athens,
had evidently subjected him to a temptation which he
found it the more difficult to overcome when, in his practice
at the bar, a similar success and admiration attended him.
He was beginning to think extravagantly of his own
abilities, and to encourage feelings of vanity, (being indeed
not only eloquent as a speaker, but equally skilled in
languages, science, and literature,) when he found a timely
monitor in his sister Macrina. He had benefited too
much by female instruction in his childhood, to think
scom of woman's advice in his later years ; and the sister
who bore his venerated grandmother's name, succeeded in
her endeavours to awaken him to a sense of his danger.
St Basil, in his 233rd epistle, describes both his feelings
and his course of conduct: "After long time spent in
vanity, and almost the whole of my youth vanishing in the
idle toil of studying that wisdom which God has made
folly, at length, roused as from a deep sleep, I gazed upon
the marvellous light of Gospel truth, and discerned the
unprofitableness of the wisdom taught by the perishing
authorities of this world ; much did I bewail my wretched
life, and pray that guidance would be vouchsafed to me
for an entrance into the doctrines of godliness. And
above all was it a care to me to reform rny heart, which
the long society of the corrupt had perverted. So when I
read the Gospel . and perceived thence that the best start
towards perfection was to sell my goods and share them
with indigent brethren, and altogether to be reckless of

BAS.

this life, and to rid my soul of all sympathy with things
on earth, I earnestly desired to find some brother who had
made the same choice, and who might take the voyage with
me over the brief waves of this life. Many did I find in
Alexandria, many in the rest of Egypt, and in Palestine
in Ccele-Syria and Mesopotamia, whose abstinence and
endurance I admired, and whose constancy in prayer L
was amazed at, how they overcame sleep, being broken by
no natural necessity, bearing ever a high and free spirit
in hunger and thirst, in cold and nakedness, not regarding
the body, nor enduring to spend any thought upon it, but
living as if in flesh not their own ; how they showed in
deed what it is to sojourn in this world ; what it is to
have our conversation in heaven. Admiiing and extolling
the life of these men, who could so in deed carry about
with them the dying of the Lord Jesus, I desired that 1
myself, as far as I could attain, might be an imitator of
them."

In reference to the determination of Basil, to adopt a
monastic kind of life, Mr Newman remarks, " that in the
early ages it was scarcely possible to attain that state of life
which a pious clergyman desires to lead, except in monastic
institutions : but which in our favoured country, where
Christianity has been long established, is, in its substance,
the privilege of ten thousand parsonages up and down the
land /" Who does not wish that the highly-gifted writer
of the passsage just quoted would always thus think and
speak of his holy mother, the venerated church of Eng-
land ; and that, while aware of the disadvantages under
which we labour, he could also see as clearly now, as when
he penned this passage, the many advantages with which
we are blessed ! The course of discipline which is neces-
sary in one age of the Church, may not be expedient in
another, though the principle is in all ages the same, —
the principle of self-discipline and self-denial, for the
edification of our souls in godliness, and the promotion of
God's glory.

The situation which St Basil cho^e for his retreat \^as

BAS.

a desert spot in Pontus. In this retreat he had several
followers, and they passed their time in devotional
exercises, works of charity, and the study of sacred litera-
ture. Gregory would gladly have shared his retreat, but
was retained by sacred duties in the bosom of his family.
In answer to Basil's urgent invitation to join him, Gregory
writes thus :

" I have not, it is true, stood to my word ; having pro-
tested, ever since our friendship and union of heart
at Athens, that I would be your companion, and follow a
strict life wdth you. Yet I act against my wish : duty is
annulled by duty, the duty of friendship by the duty of

filial reverence At the same time, I still shall be

able to perform my promise in a measure, if you will
accept thus much. I will come to you for a time, if, in
turn, you will give me your company here ; thus we shall
be quits in friendly service, while we have all things
common. And thus I shall avoid distressing my parents,
without losing you."

St Basil himself gives an account of his retreat, which,
though Gregory was facetious upon it, and represents some
of its charms as owing their lustre to the brightness of his
friend's imagination, must be substantially correct : "What
we have often delighted to picture in our imaginations, it
is at length granted me to see in reality. I have before
me a high mountain clothed with a thick forest, watered
on the north side by fresh and limpid streams ; at the foot
of this mountain is spread a plain perpetually fertilized by
the waters which fall from the surrounding heights, whilst
the forest, encircling it with trees of every variety, self-
planted, in all the wildness of nature, serves it at once as
a boundary and a defence. The island of Calypso would
appear nothing after it, though Homer admired it, above
all others, for its beauty. The place is divided into
two deep valleys : on one side the river, which precipitates
itself from the j)eak of the mountain, forms a long barrier
in its course, difficult to surmount ; and on the other the
wide ridge of the mountain, which communicates with the

BAS. 7

valley only by a few winding intricate paths, shuts out all
passage, — there is but one means of access, and of that
we are the masters. My dwelling is built on one of the
slopes of the mountain, the extremity of which juts out
like a promontory. From it I survey the opening plain,
and follow the course of the river, more delightful to me
than the Strymon is to the inhabitants of Amphipolis ;
the still and lazy waters of the Strymon, indeed, scarcely
deserve the name of a river : but this, the most rapid I
have ever seen, breaks against the rocks, and, thrown back
again by them, falls headlong into foaming waves, and
precipitates itself into the deep gulph below ; affording at
once a most delightful spectacle, and an abundant supply
of food, for there is an astonishing quantity of fish in its
waters. Shall T speak of the fragrant dews of the earth,
the freshness which exhales from the river? Another
would describe the variety of the flowers, and the songs of
the birds, but to these I have no leisure to pay attention.
What I have to say the best of all of the spot is, that,
along with the abundance of every thing, it affords like-
wise, what is to me the sweetest of all, — and that is.
tranquillity. It is not only far removed from the noise of
cities, but it is not even visited by travellers, except some-
times by a few hunters who come among us ; for we also
have our wild beasts : not the bears and wolves of your
mountains, but troops of stags, herds of wild goats, hares,
and other animals as inoffensive. Pardon me, then, for
having flown to this asylum ; Alcmeon himself stopped
when he came to the islands of the Echinades."

It is not, however, change of place that can immediately
give change of heart ; and Basil, with his characteristic
frankness, acknowledged to Gregory in another letter, that
he found it more difficult to effect this than he had
imagined.

"I recognize," says he, "in the sentiments of your
letter the hand which has traced them, as in looking at a
child, we are reminded of its parents by a family likeness.
You write to me that the place I have chosen for my

BAS.

retreat makes no difference to you : that all you desire is
to know my mode of life, that you may come and join me
in it. Such a thought is every way worthy of one like
yourself, who annexes no importance to the things of this
world, in comparison with the beatitudes which are pro-
mised us in the next. ' How do I pass,' you ask, ' my
days and nights in the retirement in which I am now
living '?' Must I tell you ? Alas ! it will not be without
confusion. I have left cities and their turmoil behind
me. I have renounced every thing in them without
regret, but I have not yet been able to renounce myself.
I compare myself to voyagers who have not got accustomed
to the sea, and to whom the motion of the vessel imparts
the most uncomfortable sensations, because, in quitting
land, they still bring on board with them the bile with
which their stomach was overloaded. This is exactly tin-
state in which I am. As long as ever we carry about with
us the germs of the maladies that torment us, the place
makes no difference : we shall find every where the same
sorrowful results. I will confess to you, then, that I have
not yet experienced any great benefit from my solitude.
What, then, is to be done, and how, then, ought we to
act, in order to follow faithfully in the steps of the Master
who has opened to us the way of salvation, saying, ' If
any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take
up his cross, and follow me.' Thus it is that we must
act ; we must, in the first place, labour to keep our minds
in a calm and uniform consistency. When the eyes are
accustomed to wander about in all directions, it becomes
impossible to fix them on any object so steadfastly as to
consider it under every point of view ; yet we must look
at it earnestly, to make it out entirely. It is the same
with tli;' mind ; when it is divided by the solicitudes of
the world, it cannot concentrate its attention upon the
determinate nature of truth, .... He who is not yet
yoked in the bonds of matrimony, is harassed by frenzied
cravings, and rebellious impulses, and hopeless attach-
ments ; he who has found his mate is encompassed with

BAS. 9

his own tumult of cares : if he is childless, there is desire
of children ; has he children ? anxiety about their educa-
cation, attention to his wife, care of his house, oversight
of his servants, misfortunes in trade, quarrels with his
neighbours, lawsuits, the risks of the merchant, the toil of
the farmer. Each day, as it comes, darkens the soul in
its own way : and night after night takes up the day's
anxieties, and cheats the mind with illusions in accord-
ance. Now one way of escaping all this is separation from
the whole world. What I mean by the expression, separa-
tion from the world, is not merely to remove the body to
a distance from it, but to detach all our affections from
it ; to relinquish country, home, society, business, inter-
ests, human sciences ; absolutely to divorce ourselves
from all, in order that our souls may be entirely at
liberty to receive the impressions the Lord may be pleased
to make upon them. We cannot imprint new characters
upon wrax, till wTe have effaced the old ones : in the same
manner the divine instructions cannot find place in a
heart pre-occupied by all the ideas connected with the
usual affairs of life.

" One of the first benefits to be derived from retirement
is the imposing silence on the disorderly movements of
our own hearts, and affording the calm to reason, that is
necessary to enable us to conquer our passions, which,
like ferocious beasts, are only to be subjugated by being
bowed under the yoke. Let us, then, suppose a solitude
such as the desert in which I now am, far from the com-
merce of mankind, where the pious exercises of a religious
life, being uninterrupted by outward things, afford con-
tinual nourishment to the soul. Can you imagine a
felicity more desirable than that of imitating on earth
that life which the angels lead in heaven ? To commence
the day with prayers and sacred melodies, which bring us
into immediate communication with our Creator; con-
tinuing it by the same exercises, mingling with our labour
the holy songs which give it its sweetest relish, and diffuse
such delicious consolations over the soul as constantly to

10 BAS.

keep it in a state of ravishing serenity ? It is by this
majestic equilibrium in the movements of the soul, that
we are purified : by not permitting the tongue to indulge
in idle conversation ; the eyes to dwell on the vain glory
of mere outward things ; the ears to introduce to the soul
any thing of effeminancy or frivolity, mere mundane
music, or the heartless jests of trifling minds.

" The soul, secured by these precautions from exterior
diversion, and the attacks of the senses, retires within
itself, and elevates its own nature to the contemplation of
the Deity. Enlightened by the rays which shine forth
from His divine essence, it rises above its own weakness ;
freed from temporal cares, corporeal necessities, and affec-
tions of earth, it devotes all its powers to the search after
immortal good, and makes its sole occupation to consist
in the practice of temperance, prudence, fortitude, justice,
— in a word, of all the virtues that compose the code of
Christian morality.

" The surest way to understand thoroughly all that is
required of us, is to meditate upon the Holy Scriptures,
which bring before our eyes at once the precepts necessary
for the direction of our conduct, and the examples of virtue
best calculated to serve us as models. Hence, in whatever
respect each one feels himself deficient, devoting himself
to this imitation, he finds, as from some dispensary, the
due medicine for his ailment. He who is enamoured of
chastity, dwells upon the history of Joseph, and from him
learns chaste actions, finding him not only possessed of
self-command over pleasure, but virtuously-minded in
habit. He is taught endurance from Job. Or, should he
be inquiring how to be at once meek and great-hearted,
hearty against sin, meek towards men, he will find David
noble in warlike exploits, meek and unruffled as regards
revenge on enemies. Such, too, was Moses, rising up
with great heart upon sinners against God, but with meek
soul bearing their evil speaking against himself. These
meditations ought to be succeeded by prayer, which
strengthens the energy of the soul, by the flame of divine

BAS. 11

love it kindles in it. Prayer also diffuses light over the
mysteries of the divine essence. Prayer makes the soul
the residence of God Himself, by filling its intelligence
and perceptions with a profound impression of His pre-
sence : it makes the Christian a temple of the divinity ; a
sanctuary which neither the cares nor the revolutions that
agitate the world, nor the lawless affections which make
all our misery, dare venture to approach : separated from
every thing beside, it then communes only with God.

" One of the first objects of our care in a religious com-
munity ought to be so to regulate our conversation, as to
contract the habit of proposing questions to each other,
without any mixture of a disputatious spirit, and of
giving our answers without any pretension to superiority ;
never to interrupt any one who may be speaking of some-
thing useful ; to refrain from endeavouring to shine in
conversation ; to love to learn, without feeling ashamed at
our need of learning ; to impart what we know, without
suffering our vanity to be gratified by imparting it, and
without hiding from ourselves or others the source whence
we may have derived our information, but always making
known, with gratitude, to whomsoever we may be indebted
for it. The sound of the voice should also be attended
to, that we may draw neither too much, nor too little
attention by it. Let us always reflect well on what we
are going to say, before we give it utterance ; let us show
ourselves polite, attentive, affectionate in our language,
but let us not lend our ears to any thing of light or foolish
jesting, — let us, on the contrary, mildly check, by friendly
remonstrance, those who may be in the habit of indulging
in it. We ought never to allow ourselves any harshness,
either of manner or tone, even to recall to duty those who
may have suffered themselves to wander from it. Always
in matters of exhortation place yourself in the lowest
place : you are sure by that means to gain him who may
have need of your advice. In such cases we cannot do
better than take for our model the prophet, who, charged
with the rebuking of David in his sin, does not pronounce,

12 BAS.

in his own person, the sentence of condemnation on him,
but borrowing the character of a stranger, in which to
make his appeal to the king's individual judgment, leaves
him, when he pronounces sentence against him, no plea
for complaint against his accuser."

In all these precepts we have the rules which Basil
himself felt it necessary to impose on his own infirmities,
and thus they became an indirect expression of his acute
sense of his own imperfections.

With what humility does he also express himself on
the same subject to his friend Amphilochus : — " I have
indeed renounced the world," he says, " as far as with-
drawing myself from communication with it may be to
renounce it ; but I feel that the man of the world still
lives in me. You know I have practised at the bar,
hence I have contracted a habit of speaking too much.
I am not sufficiently on my guard against the thoughts
which the evil one suggests to me ; I find difficulty in
relinquishing the favourable opinion I had entertained of
myself, — in a word, my whole soul has need of being
renewed and purified, before I can contemplate, without
impediment, the wonders and glory of my God."

It was nevertheless with inward and sweet consolation
that Basil began to see, in the way of life he had em-
braced, the means afforded him of gradual approach to
that perfection of the regenerate which was the object of
all his most ardent desires.

"It is certain," says he, again addressing his Mend
Gregory, " that retirement from the world affords great
assistance towards the attainment of this end : it calms
and subdues the passions, and gradually induces a habit
of sacred meditation."

At a future period, when he found himself more and
more strengthened in his renunciation of every thing that
had formerly tended to engender in him a vain-glorious
spirit and worldly desires, he was enabled to write thus
to Eusebius :

" I have lost much time from having spent my youth

BAS. 13

in the study of vain sciences, and the acquirement of that
worldly wisdom which is foolishness in the sight of God ;
but now these wretched illusions are dispersed ; I deplore
the uselessness of my past life ; I see the emptiness of
the acquirements which serve no other end than to inflate
us with vain-glory, and the wonderful light of the Evan-
gelists is become my sole treasure. It was indeed incum-
bent upon me to reform my habits, which retained but
too much of the long commerce I had had with the chil-
dren of this world."

Basil was joined by his friend in 359. Their happiness
on this reunion, and the manner in which they passed
their time, may be described by St Gregory, when in
writing to his friend he says : "Who shall make me as
in months past, as in the days when I had the luxury
of suffering hardship with you ? since voluntary pain is
higher than involuntary comfort. Who shall restore me
to those psalmodies, and vigils, and departures to God
through prayer, and that (as it were) immaterial and
incorporeal life ? or to that union of brethren, in nature
and soul, who are made gods by you, and carried on high?
or to that rivalry in virtue and sharpening of heart which
we consigned to written decrees and canons ? or to that
loving study of divine oracles, and the light we found in
them, with the guidance of the Spirit? or, to speak of
lesser and lower things, to the bodily labours of the day,
the wood-drawing and the stone-hewing, the planting and
the draining ? or that golden plane, more honourable than
that of Xerxes, under which, not a jaded king, but a
weary monk did sit, — planted by me, watered by Apollos,
(that is, your honourable self,) increased by God, unto my
honour ; that there should be preserved with you a memo-
rial of my loving toil, as Aaron's rod that budded, was, as
Scripture says and we believe, kept in the ark. It is very
easy to wish all this, not easy to gain. Do you, however,
come to me, and revive my virtue, and work with me ;
and, whatever benefit we once gained together, preserve

VOL. II. B

14 BAS.

for me by your prayers, lest otherwise I fade away by
little and little, as a shadow, while the day declines. For
you are my breath, more than the air, and so far only do I
live, as I am in your company, either present, or, if absent,
by your image."

At this period, St Gregory, though he enjoyed the
society of his friend, indulged himself in some pleasantry
on the subject of St Basil's mode of living. The austeri-
ties of Basil did indeed become severe : Gregory tells us,
after St Basil's death, that " he had but one tunic and
one outer garment ; a bed on the ground, little sleep,
no luxurious bath : his pleasantest meal consisted of
bread and salt, and his drink that sober liquor of which
there is no stint, which is elaborated in the gushing
spring."

The Ascetica of St Basil are supposed to have been written
by him during his retreat: we say "supposed," because
the genuineness of these treatises is disputed. At what
time Basil was ordained is doubtful, but he was certainly
a deacon in 359, when he attended a council held before
Constantius, at Constantinople, to oppose the x\nomoeans.
In 362 he was again summoned from his retirement, to
attend the death bed of Dianius, bishop of Caesarea, to
whom St Basil was personally attached, though to his
principles he was much opposed. Dianius had taken part
against St Athanasius, but seems rather to have been
opposed to the policy of the Nicene test, with respect to
the Homo-ousion, than really heretical. He was one of
those who would not quarrel about a word, and had not
sense to see that in that word the whole controversy was
in fact involved ; which is indeed always forgotten by those
who, in the exercise of their wit display their ignorance,
and think it a matter of ridicule that the whole Church,
even the world, was convulsed for the sake of an iota,
the difference between Homo-ousion and Homoiousion.
But so it was ; and Dianius, being weak and liberal,
iie signed, in the year 360, the formulary of the council

BAR. 15

of Ariminum, in which the orthodox test of the Homo
ousion being given up, the catholic doctrine was evaded,
under the pretence of expressing it only in the words of
Scripture. St Basil had ceased from that time to hold
intercourse with him, until summoned, as we have stated,
to his death bed, when he had the satisfaction of hearing
his friend express in his last hours, his hearty adherence
to the Nicene formulary.

The Church was at this period in a critical situation.
The apostate Julian was on the throne, prepared to assail
her from without, and the Arian, or low church faction,
were rending her vitals within. In this juncture, the
bishop of Caesarea being dead, the people had the folly to
insist upon the election of Eusebius, who was only a
catechumen, and consequently " a novice," and the pre-
lates had the weakness to yield to their violence, and to
consecrate him to the vacant bishopric.

But the first step taken by Eusebius was a wise one.
Feeling his inadequacy to the duties imposed upon him,
he secured the services of Basil, and, ordaining him priest
in the year 364, acted in all things according to his
advice. The awful responsibilities, rather than the dignity
of the ministerial office, pressed upon the minds of Chris-
tians at this period, and it was contrary to his own wishes
that Basil received ordination. It was therefore with
congenial feelings that he read a letter from Gregory, in
which the latter said : " We have both of us been made
priests agaiDst our inclinations; perhaps it might have
been better for us never to have been raised to the sacer-
dotal office. This, however, is all that I will say on the
subject; for I am not fully conscious what have been the
views of God respecting us. Since our lot is cast, it is our
duty to submit ourselves to it, above all, on account of the
times in which we live, when the tongues of heretics are let
loose against us on every side, and to do nothing which
may fall below either the hopes that are conceived respect-
ing us, or the life which we have hitherto led." The times
were the more difficult, because there was a large body in

16 BAS.

the Church, the Semi-arians, with whom the generous
spirit of Basil sympathized, who were rather perplexed by
the various explanations, refinements, and distinctions to
which the Arian controversy had given rise, than perversely
heterodox ; who opposed the Arians, from whom they
had emanated, and shewed an inclination, after the death
of Constantius, in 361, to conform to the doctrine of the
Church. Basil's tenderness to these persons involved him
in difficulties and suspicion throughout his life. But not-
withstanding all the difficulties he had to encounter, his
labours as a priest were eminently successful. He fre-
quently preached every day in the week, and as a record
of his labour we still possess his " Hexaemeron," or nine
homilies on the six days of creation, which may be found
in the first volume of the Benedictine edition of his works.
" The simplest," says his brother, Gregory of Nyssa,
" could comprehend his discourses, whilst the wisest
admired them." But he preached more especially by the
eloquence of his example. He retained in the world the
recollected spirit of a recluse, and his life was as regular
in the midst of his many avocations, as if he had no other
duty to attend to, but the inspection of himself.

Eusebius became jealous. A dispute ensued, which
ended in a separation. The separation after the dispute
was necessary, for the attachment of the people to Basil
was so strong, that it would have been impossible for him,
had he continued in his post, to prevent their forming a
faction against their bishop, especially as their favourite
Basil was the injured party. A weak, a wicked, or an am-
bitious man, however much he may retain the semblance
of piety, can never resist the temporary importance of one
who is enabled to place himself at the head of a faction.
Many a soul has been ruined by this : though to be the
head of a faction requires little intellect ; the only thing
requisite, is that flexibility of principle which will enable
persons to act together under the most degrading of all
bonds, though it is always the bond of religious faction,
the bond, not of love, but hatred, — hatred directed to a

BAS. 17

common object. St Basil was a true churchman ; a man
of God ; and as such was prepared to suffer, rather than
injure the Church or damage his own soul. Once again,
therefore, he quitted Caesarea, and retired not unwillingly
to his monastic seclusion in Pontus. St Gregory Nazian-
zen accompanied him, and there, in the serenity of his
monastery, and in the society of his friend, he was
permitted during three years of retirement, to prepare his
soul for the greater trials which awaited him.

For the times were not such as to permit a man of
Basil's energy and genius to continue long in seclusion.
Valens, the emperor, was a heretic, and determined to
establish heresy on the ruins of Catholicism : he had
already made havoc of the Church of Galatia, and was
proceeding to do the same damage to the Church of Cappa-
docia, expecting to make great gain of the divisions there,
and the absence of Basil, and being supported by an
army, as Gregory describes it, worthy of such a chief, and
ready to commit any atrocity ; by bishops without piety,
and by governors of provinces 'without humanity. He
tried, indeed, the arts of profane governments, and by
promises of protection and preferment, sought to win Basil
to his side ; but Basil, true to his principles, had been
reconciled to Eusebius, and was found at his post, man-
fully contending for the faith once delivered to the saints,
and utterly defeating the godless machinations of Valens,
who was, in the words of Gregory, equally distinguished
for the love of money and the hatred of Christ, <Pi\ox?v<roTa.To<;

X.CLI fj(,L<TOXpl<TTOTa,TO$.

The reconciliation between Basil and his bishop had
been effected by Gregory Nazianzen, who first addressed
the bishop in a letter, of which the following is a transla-
tion:

"lam well aware that in addressing your lordship, I

am addressing one who himself hates insincerity, and

who has a peculiar skill in detecting it in others, however

artfully concealed : and indeed I may say, if you will

b 2

18 BAS.

pardon the impertinence, I am myself averse to it, both
by natural disposition and from Christian education. So
let me speak out what is Uppermost on my mind, and
excuse my freedom. Indeed it would be an injury to me
to restrain me and bid me keep my pain to myself, as a
sore festering in my heart. Proud as I am of your notice,
(for I am a man, as some one says before me,) and of your
invitations to religious consultations and meetings, yet I
cannot bear your holiness's past and present slight of my
most honoured brother Basil, whom I selected from the
first, and still possess as my friend, to live with me and
study with me, and search with me into the deepest
wisdom. I have no need to be dissatisfied with the
opinion I have formed of him, and if I do not say more
in his praise, it is lest, in enlarging on his admirable
qualities, I should seem to be praising myself. Now,
your favour towards me, and discountenance of him, is as
if a man should stroke one's head with one hand, and
with the other strike one's cheek ; or decorate a house
with paintings and beautify the outside, while he was
undermining its foundations. If there is any thing you
will grant me, let it be this ; and I trust you will, for
really it is equitable. He will certainly defer to you, if
you do but pay a reasonable deference to him. For my-
self, I shall come after him as shadows follow bodies,
being small, and a lover of quiet. Miserable indeed should
we be, if while we were desirous of wisdom in other
matters, and to choose the better part, we yet thought
little of that grace, which is the end of all our doctrine —
charity ; especially in the case of one who is our bishop,
and so eminent, as we well know, in life, in doctrine, in
conversation, and in the government of his diocese ; for
the truth must be spoken, whatever our private feelings
may be."

Gregory at the same time wrote to Basil :
" This time calls upon us to be well-judging in our
measures, and to bear patiently what may come upon us :

BAS. 19

to surpass in valour the generality of men, and to have a
care lest all our past labour and toil should suddenly come
to nothing. Now, why do I write thus ? It is because
-our admirable bishop, for such in future we ought to think
and call Eusebius, has most friendly and kind feelings
towards us, and like steel in the fire is softened by time.
I even expect that you will receive a communication from
him, with pleasant words, and a summons, as he himself
hinted to me, and many of his confidential friends assure
me. Let us then anticipate his advances, either by our
presence or by writing, or, what would be better still, by
first writing and then making our appearance, lest we suf-
fer hereafter a defeat with disgrace, when we might have
conquered by a defeat which was honourable and dignified ;
which, indeed, most men expect of us. Come, then, ac-
cording to my entreaty, both on this account, and for the
times' sake. In truth, the heretical faction is trampling
the Church under-foot ; some of them are already among
us and are at work ; others, it is said, will follow soon.
Surely there is danger of their sweeping away the word
of truth, unless the spirit of our Bezaleel speedily awake,
that cunning master-builder of argument and doctrine.
If you wish me to be present and to assist in this busi-
ness, or to be the companion of your journey, I am at
your service."

Gregory was not at first successful with Eusebius, but
having prevailed with him, he found Basil ready at once
to forget as well as to forgive the past, and to act the part
of a Christian. "It required," says Gregory, "no long
arguments to prevail on him to come to our aid. I it was,
who was charged by Eusebius to bear to him the unani-
mous wish of the people for his return. As soon as he
beheld me, without one moment's hesitation, he prepared
to quit Pontus immediately, and to follow me ; he saw
nothing but the fact that the Church was endangered
by tyranny; he had no other feeling than the desire to
support it, and to devote himself unconditionally to its
service."

20 BAS.

The reconciliation when it took place was on both sides
cordial and sincere : the aged bishop found in the energetic
Basil the friend and coadjutor whom his advanced years
required : and Basil was as usual successful among the
people. " Nothing," says St Gregory in allusion to his
conduct at this period, "could equal his zeal and courage,
excepting his prudence and profound wisdom ; he knew,
at once, how to regain the affection of his people, put an
end to the disputes which divided even the orthodox, and
separate from them those who were inimical to the truth.
Every where was he seen joining himself to the strong,
supporting the weak, and repulsing their adversaries, who
were obliged, at length, to retire, without gaining a single
advantage over them."

In the year 368 two awful events occurred in which the
character of St Basil displayed itself in the most amiable
colours. Drought and famine desolated the whole of Cap-
padocia : and dreadful as the visitation was every where, it
was peculiarly so in Ciesarea, as its distance from the sea
prevented the importation of foreign corn. At this junc-
ture the rich were found inclined to speculate on the
miseries of their fellow creatures by buying up the
provisions that remained, in the hope of making an
enormous profit on them as the necessities of the people
increased. The energies of St Basil were enthusiastically
employed on the part of the poor : he alarmed some by
his denunciations, and melted others by his entreaties,
and never rested until the poor were fed. Basil, assisted
by other benevolent Christians, raised the funds for their
support, regulated the distribution of the stores himself,
watched over the necessities of the people, and ministered
to their spiritual wants at the same time that he provided
for the wants of their body.

Is it asked where was the secret by which Basil obtained
this wondrous influence over the minds of men? We
answer, his preaching was powerful not in words only but
more especially in deeds. Emmelia, his mother, was dead.
Basil had, therefore, become once more possessed of con-

BAS. -21

siderable private property. He again sold his possessions,
and it was with the sum thus realized that he provided
daily for those who were unable to provide for themselves.
He refused none ; neither Jew nor heathen was excluded
from his bounty; his light shone on the evil and the good,
for in such times the question relates not to a man's merits
but to his wants. Mention has just been made of the
death of St Basil's mother, Emmelia ; so that domestic
giief was added to public care, and how deeply he felt his
loss, he himself declares when in writing to Eusebius of
Samosata ; he says, " I have lost the first joy of my life, —
I have lost my mother. Do not accuse me of weakness in
deploring, at my age, this event as lacerating to my heart.
Oh ! do not condemn me for regretting the removal of a
person whose place no other in this world can ever supply
to me, and alas ! whom no other will ever resemble in my
eyes."' The Church regarded Emmelia as a saint; and the
loss of a saint-like mother is indeed irreparable.

The other event to which allusion has been made as
occuring this year was an earthquake which over-
whelmed the city of Nice. Among those who were buried
in its ruins was Caesarius, the brother of Gregory Xazian-
zen. He had been extricated with difficulty, and had
received, as it were, his life from the grave. The earth
trembled and shook, and he was counted as one of them that
go down into the pit, but he was spared ; and St Basil, on
writing to congratulate him, says, " Oh that we could
always retain the sentiments by which we are animated in
times of danger and trial ; — then it is that we are indeed
fully impressed with a conviction of the nothingness of
this life, the uncertainty of all worldly things, the folly of
those who attach themselves to them : then it is that we
deplore our past errors ; that we form new resolutions to
watch more narrowly over ourselves for the future, and to
consecrate ourselves afresh and entirely to the Lord. Such
are the sentiments you have no doubt experienced on your
late deliverance. Look upon yourself, then, for the future,
as a man charged, if ever there was one, with an immense

23 BAS.

and most sacred debt. I suggest these considerations to
you, with mixed emotions of thankfulness for the past,
and solicitude for the future : excuse my frankness. I
well remember you used to like me to hold such language
as this, with you, and I am willing to flatter myself that
it will not at this time find you less disposed to listen to
it favourably."

While Basil was devoting all his thoughts and time to
the service of the church of Caesarea, Eusebius died ; and
his flock was now exposed to the same troubles that in-
fested it at the time of his election. Caesarea was the
most considerable see in the east next to Antioch ;
the integrity of the faith in that important diocese,
and the harmony which reigned among the people, gave
the heretics no small uneasiness, and they were now re-
solved to make a bold push, and to leave no stone unturned
in order to get it into their hands. Upon this the clergy
of Caesarea notified their bishop's death to the other pre-
lates in the province, who hastend thither in order to pro-
ceed to the election of a successor, and thus to defeat the
attempts of the Arians. St Gregory, bishop of Nazianzum,
father of St Basil's illustrious friend, was then eighty years
old, and sick in bed, and consequently unable to assist in
person at the choice of a new bishop. He wrote to the
clergy and people of Caesarea, assuring them that, if it
were but barely possible for him to be removed to that city,
he would not fail to attend ; but, if that was not in his
power, he gave them to understand that his vote went for
Basil, whom he could not but prefer on this occasion,
although he was satisfied there might be several persons
truly worthy of that dignity. " He is a man," says that
venerable prelate, "of sound doctrine, and pure morals ;
and the only person, or, at least, the properest, to
oppose the heretics, and defend the faith against their
assaults." The same prelate sent another letter on the
same subject to Eusebius, bishop of Samosata, and although
not of the province, begged his assistance in the affair,
because it concerned the whole Church. Eusebius went

BAS. 23

to Caesarea; where the Catholics received fresh courage
frorn the presence of one so famous and so much esteemed ;
which was necessary at that time ; for though there could
be no dispute about St Basil's superior qualifications, his
election was opposed by some of the chief persons in that
country ; the faction was supported by great numbers of
such as are always ready to act with their leaders, and
their party seemed so strong that several of the bishops
gave in to their measures, imagining they spoke the sense
of the whole people. Eusebius undeceived the greatest
part of them, and the old bishop of Xazianzum, under-
standing that Basil still wanted one vote, forgot his age
and sickness, was carried in a litter to Caesarea, and would
have thought himself happy had he expired the moment
he had concurred to the good work. Thus St Basil was
regularly and canonically elected and consecrated on the
14th of June, 370.

Nothing is so difficult for a man in a public station as
to act up to the opinion his friends have entertained of
him before his promotion. But St Basil came up to
their highest expectations. His first care was to soften
the minds of such as were exasperated against him.
and had been heated with the late intrigues ; he gained
them so effectually by a noble, ingenuous, and gentle
line of conduct without any mixture of flattery, that
they were persuaded their salvation could not be safe,
while they remained disobedient to this excellent prelate.
Thus conquered by generous usage, and convinced of their
fault by the conduct of their pastor, they endeavoured to
recommend themselves by a virtuous and regular life,
which was all that could entitle them to his favour, and
convince him of the reality of their repentance. This is
the account St Gregory has left us of his friend.

His new dignity was not supported by a large retinue,
a splendid table, and magnificent furniture ; humility,
frugality and mortification were his only ornaments. His
servants were reduced to so small a number, that he often
wanted persons to copy his writings, carry his letters, and

•24 BAS.

go on the most necessary messages ; and only the poor
knew that the revenue of his bishopric was considerable.
His whole family was most exactly regular, and no one
could be admitted into his house, who was not disposed to
conform to the discipline of it. Neither the multiplicity
of business, nor his continual infirmities, hindered him
from often explaining the Word of God to his people on
working days both morning and afternoon ; upon which
occasion the tradesmen shut up their shops most willingly
and hastened to the divine food, without any concern for
the loss of their business in the meantime. The ardour
his flock shewed augmented the pastor's zeal, which
often exceeded his strength ; for which reason in one of
his homilies he compares himself to a nurse, who has no
milk, but is obliged, however, to give her child the breast
to keep it from crying. He made frequent visitations of
his whole diocese ; established ecclesiastical discipline in
its primitive rigour ; reclaimed several who seemed to be
lost to all sense of goodness; and employed both his tongue
and pen in laying down excellent rules for every state of
life, which are the subject of several of his letters and
homilies.

But the difficulties with which St Basil had to contend
upon his first entrance upon his office were very great.
The state of the Church internally may be surmised
from the following letters addressed by St Basil to his
suffragans.

" So great is the enormity of the crime which is the
subject of this letter, that the very suspicion and report of
it pained me deeply. And hitherto I did not believe it
could have been committed. So what I shall say about it
must be taken as a wholesome medicine by such as are
conscious of guilt ; by the innocent as a warning ; and as
a protest by those who stand aloof, though I trust such
indifference is not found among you. What am I de-
nouncing ? It is reported that some among you receive a
price for bestowing ordination, and then give a religious
colour to their proceeding. Should this be so, let it cease ;

BAS. 25

for we are bound to say to him who receives, what the
apostles said to him who offered a price for the participa-
tion of the Spirit, "Thy money perish with thee !" Indeed,
it is a less sin to be ignorant that we cannot buy, than to
sell the gift of God. For we sell what we received without
price, and so, being sold to Satan, shall certainly lose it.
We traffic in things spiritual, even in that Church in
which the body and blood of Christ are given us in charge.
This must not be.

"The evasion of these persons is as follows. They con-
sider they are clear of the guilt, in that they receive
nothing before ordination, but after. But to receive is
still to receive, whatever be the time.

"I beseech you turn from this way of gain, or rather, of
perdition ; nor by such pollution deprive your hands of
the power of celebrating the holy mysteries. Let me
speak my purpose. First, I exhort as disbelieving the
charge; next, as if convinced, I threaten. Should any
instance occur after this my letter, the offender shall be
removed from the altar of his church ; for he makes a
gain of the gift of God. We have no such custom, neither
the churches of God. I will add one word. The love of
money, which has caused this crime, is the root of all evil,
and is termed in Scripture idolatry. Prefer not idols to
Christ, for a paltry bribe ; nor be as Judas, selling Him
afresh who was once for all crucified for us. Surely both
the estates, and the hands of those who reap the fruits
thereof, shall be called Aceldama."

On another occasion he addresses his suffragan bishops
in these terms : —

"lam much concerned at the utter disuse, which prevails
among us, of the canons of our fathers, and at the banish-
ment of exact discipline from the churches ; and I am
apprehensive lest, if this indifference goes further, ecclesi-
astical affairs will fall into utter confusion. According to
the ancient custom of the Church, candidates for its min-
istry were not admitted without most careful examination.
vol. ir. c

26 BAS.

Diligent inquiry was made into their manner of life,
whether they were railers, or drunkards, or quarrelsome,
or unable to control their youth, so as to secure that holi-
ness, without which no one shall see the Lord. The pres-
byters and deacons in their neighbourhood ascertained
these points, and reported to the suffragans, who collected
their opinions together, and laid them before the bishop :
and then the candidate was received. But at present you
have deprived me of the right of this report, and have
taken the whole authority into your own hands. Next,
you have neglected the duty thus undertaken, and have
allowed the presbyters and deacons to introduce into the
church whom they would, without inquiring into their
previous life, from personal liking, either from relationship
or other connexion. Hence, many as are the inferior
ministers in each town, there is not, perhaps, one fit to be
advanced to the ministry of the altar, [i. e., to the priest-
hood and diaconate,] as, indeed, yourself acknowledge, in
the difficulty you find in electing them. Since, then, these
irregularities tend to irreparable mischief, especially now,
when so many are entering the ministry to avoid conscrip-
tion for the army, I have felt myself compelled to recur to
the canons of our fathers ; aud I write to you for a list of
the ministers of each town, and by whom each was recom-
mended, and his mode of life. And I wish you to keep
lists of your own, which may be checked by those you send
me, so that no one may be able to introduce his name of
himself. If any should be introduced by presbyters after
this arrangement, they are to be put back again into the
laity, and undergo an examination afresh. Should they
be approved, then let them be re-admitted."

When he was securely seated in the metropolitan see,
like a Catholic pastor, he extended his care beyond the
boundaries of his own province and applied himself to
restoring the peace of the Church, torn to pieces by the
Arian faction, and opened a correspondence with the
illustrious St Athanasius and the bishops of the west.
Thefo Rowing is his letter to St Athanasius : —

BAS. 27

" I suppose there is no one who feels such pain at
the present condition, or rather want of condition of the
churches, as your grace; comparing, as you naturally
must, the present with the past, and considering the
difference between them, and the certainty there is, if the
evil proceeds at its present pace, that in a short time the
churches will altogether lose their present constitution. I
have often thought with myself, if the corruption of the
churches seems so sad to me, what must be the feelings
of one who has witnessed their former stability and
unanimity in the faith. And as your holiness has more
abundant grief, so one must suppose you have greater
anxiety for their welfare. For myself, I have been long
of opinion, according to my imperfect understanding of
ecclesiastical matters, that there was one way of succouring
our churches — viz., the co-operation of the bishops of the
west. If they would but show, as regards our part of
Christendom, the zeal which they manifested in the case
of one or two heretics among themselves, there would be
some chance of benefit to our common interests ; the civil
power would be persuaded by the argument derived from
their number, and the laity in each place would follow
their lead without hesitation. Now there is no one more
able to accomplish this than yourself, from sagacity in
counsel, and energy in action, and sympathy for the
troubles of the brethren, and the reverence felt by the
west for your hoary head. Most reverend father, leave
the world some memorial worthy of your former deeds.
Crown your former numberless combats for religion with
this one additional achievement. Send to the bishops of
the west, from your holy church, men powerful in sound
doctrine ; relate to them our present calamities ; suggest
to them the mode of relieving us. Be a Samuel to the
churches ; conduct their flocks harassed by war ; offer
prayers of peace ; ask grace of the Lord, that he may give
some token of peace to the churches. I know letters are
but feeble instruments to persuade so great a thing; but
while you need not to be urged on by others, more than

28 BAS.

generous combatants by the acclamation of boys, I, on
the other hand, am not as if lecturing the ignorant, but
adding speed to the earnest.

" As to the remaining matters of the east, you would
perhaps wish the assistance of others, and think it neces-
sary to wait for the arrival of the western bishops. How-
ever, there is one Church, the prosperity of which de-
pends entirely on yourself — Antioch. It is in your power
so to manage the one party, and to moderate the other, as
at length to restore strength to the Church by their union.
You know, better than any one can tell you, that, as wise
physicians prescribe, it is necessary to begin with treating
the more vital matters. Now what can be more vital to
Christendom than the welfare of Antioch ? If we could
but settle the differences there, the head being restored,
the whole body would regain health."

To the bishops of the West he addressed himself also :
"The merciful God, who ever joins comfort to affliction,
has lately given me some consolation amid my sorrows,
in the letters which our most reverend father, Athanasius,
has transmitted to us from your holinesses. Our afflic-
tions are well known without my telling ; the sound of
them has now gone forth over all Christendom. The doc-
trines of the fathers are despised ; apostolical traditions
are set at nought ; the speculations of innovators hold
sway in the churches. Men have learned to be theorists
instead of theologians. The wisdom of the world has the
place of honour, having dispossessed the boasting of the
cross. The pastors are driven away, grievous wolves are
brought in instead, and plunder the flock of Christ,
Houses of prayer are destitute of preachers ; the deserts
are full of mourners : the old bewail, comparing what is
with what was ; more pitiable are the young, as not knowing
what they are deprived of. What has been said is suffi-
cient to kindle the sympathy of those who are taught in
the love of Christ, yet compared with the facts, it is far
from reaching their seriousness."

BAS. 29

In the second letter, addressed to the bishops of Italy
and Gaul, he says :

" The danger is not confined to one church : not two
or three only have fallen in with this heavy tempest.
Almost from the borders of Illyricum down to the Thebais,
this evil of heresy spreads itself. The doctrines of godli-
ness are overturned ; the rules of the Church are in
confusion ; the ambition of the unprincipled seizes upon
places of authority; and the chief seat is now openly
proposed as a reward for impiety ; so that he whose blas-
phemies are the more shocking, is more eligible for the
oversight of the people. Priestly gravity has perished ;
there are none left to feed the Lord's flock with know-
ledge ; ambitious men are ever spending in purposes of
self-indulgence and bribery, possessions which they hold
in trust for the poor. The accurate observance of the
canons is no more ; there is no restraint upon sin. Un-
believers laugh at what they see, and the weak are
unsettled; faith is doubtful, ignorance is poured over
their souls, because the adulterators of the word in wick-
edness imitate the truth. Religious people keep silence ;
but every blaspheming tongue is let loose. Sacred things
are profaned ; those of the laity who are sound in faith
avoid the places of worship as schools of impiety, and
raise their hands in solitude, with groans and tears, to
the Lord in heaven. While then any Christians seem
yet to be standing, hasten to us : hasten then to us, our
own brothers ; yea, we beseech you. Stretch out your
hands and raise us from our knees ; suffer not the half of
the world to be swallowed up by error, nor faith to be
extinguished in the countries whence it first shone forth.
What is most melancholy of all, even the portion among
us which seems to be sound, is divided in itself, so that
calamities beset us like those which came upon Jerusalem
when it was besieged."

One cannot read these passages without thanking our
gracious God for the improved state of things in our own
c 2

30 BAS.

beloved church of England ; and if, from trje oppression
of hostile governments, our church is injured and en-
slaved ; if there be a faction within the pale attempting
to deface every feature and lineament of a church among
us, still we are not yet in so bad a condition as the church
of Antioch, under Valens.

Valens determined, in 372, to take decided and decisive
measures against the Catholics, and found in the prefect
Modestus a ready instrument for his work. Modestus had
been baptized by the Arians, when paganism was the
fashion under Julian, he became a pagan, and now under
Valens he was again an Arian. By the emperor's direc-
tions, this Arian minister commanded St Basil to receive
the Arians into communion. Both emperor and minister
saw the sound policy of thus healing at once all religious
differences : they regarded the points of difference as of
no importance ; but the Church was not at that time en-
slaved to the state, neither were bishops nominees of the
minister, and emperor and minister found the Church too
powerful for them. The minister of Valens summoned
before him the minister of God, and knowing how his own
worldly mind would be influenced, he endeavoured first
by promises, and then by threats, to prevail on St Basil
to yield to the emperor's demands. The colloquy between
the bishop and the minister is on record. " What," said
the insolent minister, " what is the meaning of this, you
Basil, that you dare to resist so great a prince, and, when
others yield, are still self-willed." " What would you have
me do?" answered Basil; "What is my extravagance?
I have not heard it."

" Modestus. You are not worshipping after the em-
peror's manner, when the rest of your party have given
way and been overcome.

" Basil. I have a Sovereign whose will is otherwise,
nor can I bring myself to worship any creature, — I, a crea-
ture of God, and commanded to become a partaker of the
divine nature.

BAS. 31

" Modestus. For whom do you take me '?

" Basil. For a thing of nought, while such are your
commands.

" Modestus. Is it, then, a mere nothing for one like
you to have rank like myself, and to have my fellowship.

" Basil. You are prefect, and in noble place ; I own
it. Yet God's majesty is greater ; and it is much that
I am to have your fellowship, for we are both God's crea-
tures. But it is as great to be fellow to any other of my
flock, for Christianity lies not in distinction of persons,
but in faith.

" The prefect, angered at this, rose from his chair, and
abruptly asked Basil if he did not fear his power.

" Basil. Fear what consequences *? what sufferings ?

"Modestus. One of those many pains a prefect can
inflict.

" Basil. Let me know them.

" Modestus. Confiscation, exile, tortures, death.

" Basil. Think of some other threat. These have no
influence upon me. He runs no risk of confiscation who
has nothing to lose, except these mean garments and a
few books. Nor does he care for exile, who is not circum-
scribed by place, who makes it not a home wrhere he now
dwells, but everywhere a home whithersoever he be cast,
or rather everywhere God s home, whose pilgrim he is
and wanderer. Nor can tortures harm a frame so frail as
to break under the first blow. You could but strike
once, and death would be gain. It would but send
me the sooner to Him for whom I live and labour, nay,
am dead rather than live, to whom I have long been
journeying.

" Modestus. Xo one yet ever spoke to Modestus with
such freedom.

" Basil. Perad venture Modestus never yet fell in with
a bishop ; or surely in a like trial he would have heard
like language. 0 prefect, in other things we are gentle,
and more humble than all men living, for such is the
commandment; so as not to raise our brow. I sav not

32 BAS.

against ' so great a prince,' but even against one of least
account. But when God's honour is at stake, we think
of nothing else, looking simply to Him. Fire and the
sword, beasts of prey, irons to rend the flesh, are an in-
dulgence rather than a terror to a Christian. Therefore
insult, threaten, do your worst, make the most of your
power. Let the emperor be informed of my purpose. Me
you gain not, you persuade not, to an impious creed, by
menaces, even more frightful."

After this conversation, the prefect felt convinced that
no arguments he could use would be of sufficient force to
subdue such heroic courage ; he therefore suffered Basil
to depart, and could not refrain, in taking leave of him,
from testifying his respect for his principles. On his
return to the emperor, "Prince," said he to him, "we
are vanquished : the bishop of Caesarea is one of those
men whom threats cannot terrify, arguments convince,
or promises seduce." The emperor was wise enough to
forbear from violence towards such an adversary, and,
perhaps, generous enough to admire the very integrity he
had hoped to corrupt ; Basil was therefore left in peace,
as far as his own personal safety, and that of the people
immediately under his care was concerned.

Valens even went further ; he attended the church
accompanied by his court, on the feast of Epiphany, and
heard Basil preach. And he was deeply affected by what
he saw and heard ; by the solemnity of the psalms,
chanted antiphonally, by the reverence, devotion, and
order which prevailed in the congregation, as well as by
the sermon of Basil. The holy bishop standing at the
altar, fixed in his great ministry, and his mind entirely
taken up with the God he adored, and all who at-
tended him full of reverence and respect, was a glo-
rious sight, and inspired in him such awe for the
service of God, and such a respect for our great pre-
late, that when he was to carry his offering to the holy
table, he trembled so violently that he must have fallen,
had not one of the ministers of the altar supported

BAS. 33

him. This offering, as we learn from St Gregory Nazian-
zen's account, was bread which every communicant made
with his own hands, and was consecrated in the holy
mysteries.

This was not the only time that Valens appeared at
church. He one day went within the veil, into what some
suppose to have been the vestry, others the enclosure of
the altar, where the emperors were admitted, according to
the custom of the eastern churches. That prince had been
long desirous of conversing with St Basil, and took this
opportunity of enjoying that pleasure. Their discourse
turned on matters of faith ; St Gregory Xazianzen, who
made one at the conference, assures us that the principal
officers of the court, who were present on that occasion,
were obliged to own that Basil talked divinely ; and
Theodoret, after giving us the same account, tells us the
emperor was so well pleased with his discourse, that he
became more gentle to the Catholics, and gave a good
estate in that neighbourhood for the relief of lepers, of
whom the holy bishop took care, and afterwards erected
an hospital for their reception.

Basil, though so firm in principle, was at the same time
a conciliator, and finding that many of the semi-arians
were orthodox in fact, though not in form, he dealt so
gently with them, that he had at one time to defend him-
self from the charge of being one of the number. [See
the life of Basil of Ancyra, infra.'] This he could easily do,
though his attachment to Eustathius, whom he refused to
denounce, until proof of his guilt became too apparent to
be denied, involved him in much trouble. Eustathius, of
Sebaste, a finished hypocrite, had been the friend and
companion of St Basil, on his first retirement to Pontus :
the form which the fanaticism of the age assumed was
that of asceticism, and, won by the assumed asceticism of
Eustathius, St Basil gave him his friendship, although
his integrity was suspected by almost every one else. In
372 or 373 the eyes of Basil were opened, but it was
only by degrees ; such was the firmness of his friendship.

34 BAS.

He was invited by Theodotus, bishop of Nicopolis, in
Little Armenia, to a council, in which the conduct and
principles of Eustathius were to be considered; as Sebaste
was situated within the province of Theodotus, and
Theodotus had refused communion with Eustathius as
an Arian. St Basil, like a true friend, determined first
to have an interview with Eustathius, who satisfied him
of his orthodoxy. Theodotus, in consequence, revoked
the invitation he had sent to Basil, and Basil meekly, and
without resenting the insult, returned to Caesarea. He
still continued, notwithstanding the injury his own cha-
racter sustained by his conduct, to defend Eustathius,
and in order to satisfy the Armenian bishops of his
orthodoxy, he undertook to make him sign an orthodox
confession, containing the Nicene creed, and condemning
not only the Arian heresy, but the heresies also of Mar
cellus and Sabellius. Eustathius signed the confession,
and in order to acquit him, St Basil, in the zeal of his
friendship, called a synod of the bishops of Cappadocia
and Armenia ; when the assembled prelates were perhaps
less astonished than Basil, to hear that Eustathius had
revoked his subscription. He had been tampered with
by the court ; he thought that Valens was more likely to
be a good patron than Basil ; and becoming a supporter
of government, though the government was hostile to the
Church, he declaimed with fury against the Catholics in
general, and especially against Basil, who did not con-
descend to enter into controversy with him, but considered
the calumnies of Eustathius to be sufficiently refuted by
the comparison which all who knew them both were
capable of instituting between the conduct and the cha-
racters of the two men.

But in one instance he wTas obliged to come forward in
defence not of himself but of his church. Eustathius,
by his intrigues, caused the separation of a portion
of the coast of Pontus from the church of Caesarea,
and St Basil addressed an expostulation to the sepa-
ratists : " Hitherto," he wrote, " I have lived in much

BAS. 35

affliction and grief, ever reflecting that you are wanting
to me. For when God tells me, — even God who became
incarnate for the very purpose that by patterns of
duty, He might regulate our life, and might by His
own voice announce to us the gospel of the kingdom —
when He, even God saith, ■ By this shall men know
that ye are My disciples, if ye love one another;'
and whereas the Lord left His true peace to His disciples
as a favourite gift, when about to complete the dispensa-
tion in the flesh, saying, " Peace I leave with you, My
peace I give unto you," I cannot persuade myself that
without love to others, and without, as far as rests with
me, peaceableness towards all, I can be called a worthy
servant of Jesus Christ. I have waited a long while for
the chance of your love paying us a visit. For ye are not
ignoraut that we, being exposed to all, as rocks running
out into the sea, sustain the fury of the heretical waves,
which, in that they break around us, do not cover the
district behind. I say ' we,' in order to refer it, not to
human power, but to the grace of God, who, by the
weakness of men shows His power, as says the prophet
in the person of the Lord, ' Will ye not fear Me, who
have placed the sand as a boundary to the sea ?' for
by the weakest and most contemptible of all things,
the sand, the Mighty One has bounded the great and
full sea. Since, then, this is our position, it became
your love to be frequent in sending true brothers, to
visit us who labour in the storm, and more frequently
letters of love, partly to confirm our courage, partly to
correct any mistake of ours. For we confess that we are
liable to numberless mistakes, being men, and living in
the flesh.

" Let not this consideration influence you. ' We dwell
on the sea, we are exempt from the sufferings of the gene-
rality, we need no succour from others ; so what is the
good to us of foreign communion?' For the same Lord
who divided the islands from the continent by the sea,
bound the island Christians to the continental by love.

36 BAS.

Nothing, brethren, separates us from each other, but de-
liberate estrangement. We have one Lord, one faith, the
same hope. The hands need each other ; the feet steady
each other. The eyes possess their clear apprehension
from agreement. We, for our part, confess our own
weakness, and we seek your fellow-feeling. For we are
assured, that though ye are not present in body, yet by
the aid of prayer, ye will do us much benefit in these
most critical times. It is neither decorous before men,
nor pleasing to God, that you should make avowals which
not even the gentiles adopt, which know not God. Even
they, as we hear, though the country they live in be suffi-
cient for all things, yet, on account of the uncertainty of
the future, make much of alliances with each other, and
seek mutual intercourse as being advantageous to them.
Yet we, the sons of fathers who have laid down the law,
that by brief notes the proofs of communion should be
carried about from one end of the earth to the other, and
that all should be citizens and familiars with all, now
sever ourselves from the whole world, and are neither
ashamed at our solitariness, nor shudder that on us
is fallen the fearful prophecy of the Lord, ■ Because of
lawlessness abounding, the love of the many shall wax
cold."'

Although we know not what effect this striking epistle
had upon the separatists, it is given here as illustrative of
St Basil's character ; a peculiarity of which displayed
itself in his conduct towards Gregory Nazianzen. There
is a jealousy in friendship which is apt to evince itself
when of two friends who lived on terms of equality, one
is advanced to a high station. And in Gregory's sensitive
nature this was to be expected. Soon after Basil's ap-
pointment to the exarchate, Basil seems to have been
annoyed at Gregory's keeping aloof from him, and Gregory
seems to have kept aloof, thinking that Basil ought to
have pressed his attendance. We suspect the existence
of some such almost unconscious sensitiveness on the
part of Gregory, though doubtless he was sincere in

BAS. 37

stating that the reason of his staying away, was a feeling
of delicacy lest his friend should appear to be collecting
partizans about him. When Gregory did visit St Basil,
though he was received with every mark of attention and
respect, he did not remain long in Caasarea, and in their
subsequent correspondence there appears to have been a
little touchiness on both sides. These mutual heart-
burnings ended at last in a quarrel, under the circum-
stances about to be related.

The province of Cappadocia was found to be too large
for one civil magistrate, and being divided into two, the
two provinces had Caesarea and Tyana for their respective
capitals. Anthemus, the bishop of Tyana, immediately
made the attempt to erect his city into a metropolitan
see, and thus to sever half the province from the arch-
bishop of Caesarea. Hence a controversy ensued ; on the
one side was Basil and justice, on the other the arian-
izing bishops, and all the low church party who had
opposed the election of Basil. On this occasion Gregory
offered his assistance to his friend, though not without a
hint that there had been mismanagement on the side of
Basil. " I will come to you," wrote Gregory, " if you
wish it ; if so be, to advise with you, if the sea wants
water, or you a counsellor ; at all events, to gain benefit
and act the philosopher, by bearing ill usage in your
company."

Gregory accordingly attended Basil in his visitation of
the second Cappadocia ; and when the archbishop deter-
mined on the erection of certain new bishoprics in the
district, and appointed Gregory to that of Sasima, Basil
thought much of the Church and too little of his friend.
He 'thought that Gregory could not be more usefully
employed than in the superintendence of the church of
Sasima, and therefore, without regard to his feelings, he
immediately placed him there. Whereas Gregory was
thinking chiefly of his friend, and only came into Cappa-
docia that he might be near to him, have frequent
vol. ii. n

38 BAS„

intercourse with him, and become his adviser. When he
found that Basil acted as if he disregarded him as a
counsellor and seemed to make light of his friendship, his
sensitive nature was deeply wounded. He wrote a very
indignant letter on the subject to Basil ; and although
Gregory, to use a common expression, " lost himself" on
the occasion, by thinking more highly of himself than a
Christian man ought to do, yet certainly it does seem
that Basil might have found an inferior man better quali-
fied for the situation at Sasima, than the sensitive Gre-
gory, who, writing with some heat, exclaimed : " Give me
peace and quiet above all things. Why should I be
fighting for sucklings and birds, which are not mine, as if
in a matter of souls and- church rules? Well, play the
man, be strong, turn every thing to your own glory, as
rivers suck up the mountain rill, thinking little of friend-
ship or intimacy, compared with high aims and piety,
and disregarding what the wrorld will think of you for
all this, being the property of the Spirit alone ; while, on
my part, so much shall I gain from this your friendship,
not to trust in friends, nor to put anything above God."

We conclude our reference to this unhappy dispute,
with a remark, which in effect we made before, that all
the ardour of friendship was on the side of Gregory, and
that he received in return from Basil, the respect and
esteem which such attachment and so much virtue could
not fail to conciliate, rather than that enthusiastic admira-
tion and warmth of affection, in which true friendship
consists. The estrangement was not of long duration,
though to the last, even when apologizing for his friend
after his death, for this very transaction, the wounded
feelings of Gregory betrayed themselves.

We have alluded already to a grant of land which St
Basil obtained from Valens, and many other grants he
obtained from the wealthy and the noble, thinking that
he benefited them by whatever he could draw from their
superfluous stores, for the good of the poor. With funds

BAS. 39

thus collected, he accomplished one of the noblest under-
takings ever planned by human benevolence, the Ptocho-
tropheion, called also, the Basileias, an hospital, and
workhouse combined, which Gregory describes in the fol-
lowing terms. This " new town, raised on the confines
of the old, was open to every description of human
misery and necessity ; in it, all the infirmities and acci-
dents to which our material nature is liable were care-
fully attended to ; medical attendants, nurses, guides for
the blind, the crippled, and the aged, were attached to it :
and, in the true spirit of Christian charity, spacious
apartments were added expressly for the lepers, who, till
then chased from place to place, and even driven out of
all human haunts, found there the attentions and solace
which their peculiar affliction so earnestly called for.
Here, likewise, strangers were received with brotherly
cordiality, and treated with liberal though simple hospi-
tality. Careful, at the same time, that a charity meant
for the amelioration of the human race should in no way
be suffered to minister to its corruptions, Basil provided
spacious rooms and workshops for different handicrafts
and mechanical occupations, where all who were desirous
of employment could obtain it : and where those who
might be able were required to add their quota, towards
the funds of which they were reaping the benefits ; for he
knew the human heart too well not to dread the evils of
idleness ; aware that nothing injures moral integrity so
soon as a willingness to live in a state of indolence,
dependent on the exertion of others. " Happy is he who
supports his neighbour," says St Ambrose; "but woe
unto him who needlessly allows his neighbour to support
him."

This appears to be a model for an infirmary and a
workhouse.

The health of Basil, always delicate, had become very
bad in the year 373, and so continued till his death :
nevertheless, in 374 he commenced his celebrated work,
De Spiritu Sancto ; and in 376 was roused to publish a

40 BAS.

circular, in reply to the calumnies of Eustathius. To his
ill health we may attribute the reserve, and as we should
say, nervousness, of which he has been sometimes accused
by his enemies, and which was regarded by some after
his elevation, as a sign of pride. But, as Gregory asks,
"Is it possible for a man to embrace lepers, abasing
himself so far, and yet be supercilious towards those in
health ?"

At length, worn out by the austerities of his life, the
ardour of his zeal, the extent of his labors, and the
repeated attacks of his disorder, this great man found his
end approaching. He called his friends and disciples
around him, and having blessed them, and commended
them to God, he made such arrangements as he thought
necessary for the Church militant, ere his spirit passed
unto the Church triumphant, and having conjured them
with his dying breath, to hold fast the faith, to be un-
wearied in well-doing, and to love one another, he departed
this life, calmly saying, " Lord Jesus, into Thy hands I
commend my spirit."

His death occurred on the first of January, 379 ; and
never was a death more universally lamented : all persons,
even jews and heathens, went forth to honour his remains
as his body was carried to the grave : and his funeral,
from the prodigious concourse of people that attended it,
including almost all the most dignified persons in the
country, afforded an extraordinary contrast to the poverty
and simplicity of his own habits during life.

The Benedictine edition of St Basil was edited by
Julian Grander, and was published at Paris, in folio, in
17-21, 17 '2'2, and 1730. The Basil edition was published
in 1551, and another folio edition in 1638. — Life of
Basil, in third volume of Benedictine edition. Basilii Opera.
Gregor. Nazian. Cave. Church of the Fathers. Fleury.
TiUcrnont.

Basil. The friend and fellow-student of St Chrysostom,
of whom all that is known is to be gathered from the

BAS. 11

following passage from the first book of St Chrysostom de
Sacerdotio ; that book being the record of certain conver-
sations between St Chrysostom and the subject of the
present article :

" He was one of my constant companions ; we pursued
the same sciences, attended the same instructors ; the
same purposes in learning, the same care was common
to both, and to both, from like matters, like desires arose.
Xor was this only while we were under discipline, but also
when freed from it it behoved us to consider what course
in life was most worthy to be chosen — even then we held
the same opinion.

" There were other things also which preserved unbro-
ken this unanimity. Neither of us could boast himself
above the other on account of distinction of country : I
had no great hope of fortune — he was oppressed by ex-
treme poverty. The similarity of our fortunes kept pace
with our intentions ; our families were of equal rank ; and
in all things we corresponded in our wishes.

" When, however, the time approached for this blessed
man to embrace the monastic life and the true philosophy,
then the balance lost its equilibrium — his scale, from its
lightness, mounted upward ; whilst I, then entangled by
worldly desires, depressed mine overloaded with youthful
fancies. Even here our friendship was as firm as ever,
but our intimacy was interrupted ; nor can it exist between
those who are not united by the same pursuits. Yet, when
I raised my head a little from out the waves of this life,
he seized me with both his hands; but we could no
longer regain our former equality. He had outstripped
me in time, and by unremitting application had soared far
beyond me. So kind was he, and so highly did he estimate
my friendship that, withdrawing himself from all inter-
course with others, he passed all his time with me, which,
as I have said, was previously his wish, but had been pre-
vented by my indifference. Xor was it possible for any
one who attended the courts of justice, and who pursued
d 2

42 BAS.

scenic entertainments, to be intimate with another who
devoted himself to books and never approached the forum.
For this reason, in spite of all former repulse, that he
might allure me to the same course of life with himself,
the desire that he had long laboured with, he quickly gave
birth to ; and suffering no part of the day to be spent away
from me, he assiduously advised our leaving our homes,
and passing our lives together. He gained my consent,
and thus the matter stood. But the endearments of an
anxious mother opposed my granting him this favour, or
rather, my accepting this kindness from him.

" While matters stood thus between us — he frequently
importuning, I in my turn refusing — a rumour newly
risen disturbed us both : it was reported that we were
about to be promoted to the episcopal dignity. When I
heard this I was struck at once with fear and perplexity .
with fear, lest I should be taken against my will ; with
perplexity, when I strove to discover by what means it
had entered mens' minds to think of a matter of this
nature for us. For when I examined myself, I found no
sufficient cause for such an honour. But my generous
friend, coming to me privately, mentioned the rumour to
me, as if I were ignorant of it, and begged we might
here seem as unanimous as before in our designs and
actions. As for him, he was prepared to follow the course
I might adopt, whether rejection or acceptance of the
office. Having perceived therefore in him so ready an
inclination, and having considered, that if through my
infirmity I deprived the flock of Christ of so good a mind,
and one so qualified to guide it, I should do an injury to
the whole church community, I concealed the opinion I
held, though I had never before suffered any of my
designs to be hidden from him ; but telling him it were
better to defer our consideration of this subject to another
time, (nor was it in truth an urgent matter) I soon per-
suaded him to think no more about it ; as far as I was
concerned, I assured him, if the thing should come to
pass, he might rely on my concurrence. After no great

BAS. 48

length of time, as the day for the imposition of hands
drew nigh, I concealed myself unknown to him : my
friend, led on by some other pretence, received ordination,
relying on my promises of following him, or rather he
hoping to follow me. Some of those who were present
witnessing his uneasiness at being thus caught, misled
him by declaring, that it was absurd that he who in all
things appeared to be the bolder of the two, (meaning me)
should yield with so much modesty to the determination
of the fathers ; and that he, usually the milder and the
more prudent, should be so confident and vain as to resist
it. He yielded to these remonstrances : but when he
heard that I had fled purposely, he approached me with
shame and sorrow ; he seated himself near me, and strove
to give utterance to something. But his grief prevented
him ; nor could he summon courage to utter a word, his
anguish of mind cutting off all he intended to say before
it had passed his lips. When, however, I saw him so
bedewed with tears and troubled, knowiDg the cause,
I smiled with delight, and seizing his hand, made an
effort to salute him ; glorifying God, who gave me that
favourable issue to my stratagem, for which I had always
prayed."

In the Benedictiue edition of St Chrysostom, this Basil
is supposed to have been bishop of Rappauea, near
Antioch, a prelate wTho was present at the council of
Constantinople, in 381. Dupin cannot decide whether
this conjecture or another, that he was a bishop of Byblos,
in Phcenicia, be the most probable. — Chrysostom, de
Sacerdotio.

Basil, of Ancyra. Of the personal history of this
Basil little is known ; he was one of the leaders of the
Semi-arian party which existed in the Church during the
fourth century. On referring to the life of Arius, the
reader will perceive what the Arian doctrines are, and
that the heresiarch received the countenance of a party
headed by Eusebius, and thence frequently styled Euse-

44 BAS.

bians. These persons were more anxious to maintain a
party than to establish a dogma, or rather the Arian
dogma was valued by them as the distinction of then-
party, and they were willing to modify or explain their
dogma, according to circumstances : they were especially
desirous of conciliating the Latins, and endeavoured to
persuade them that the difference between themselves and
the orthodox was chiefly verbal, and relating to the word
Homo-ousion. They had in consequence admitted the
use of the term Homoi-ousion, by which it was asserted
that the Son was of a like nature with the Father. But
although the leaders were influenced merely by party
feelings, those who were brought into the vortex of the
party by the circumstances under which they were
placed, and were honest in heart, received the dogma
as a reality, and perplexed the party leaders by binding
them down to the real import of those words, which had
originally been chosen as mere evasions of orthodoxy.
The Homoi-ousion being thus received, many persons
were found to explain it almost in the orthodox sense ;
their dispute with the Catholics did in many instances
become little more than verbal, and hence they were
dealt with gently by such men as St Basil the great.
The Semi-arians were found to be as strongly opposed
to the pure Arians, as those who accepted the Nicene
test. Thus was the word, first invented as an evasion
by the Arians, used as a test against them by the Semi-
arians, who merely refused to accept the Homo-ousion
because they imagined that it implied an approach
to Sabellianism. But although the Semi-arians repudiated
the evasion of the Eusebians or pure Arians, that the
word Son had but a secondary sense, and that our Lord
was in reality a creature, though not like other creatures ;
nevertheless, when they formed a distinct party, their
creed was condemned by the orthodox, as involving those
contradictions in terms, which the Nicene doctrine
escapes : the Semi-arians maintained against the Arians
that the Son was born before all time, and yet they con-

BAS. 45

tended against the Catholics that He was not eternal : in
opposition to the Arians they asserted that He was not a
creature, and yet they refused to assent to the Catholic
truth that He is God : they affirmed Him to be of His
substance, so again opposing the Arians, — yet not of the
same substance, and thus rejecting the Homo-ousion.
Thus they tried to hold the via media in the controversy,
and in so doing were led into these contradictions, which
were gradually discovered by the more earnest-minded
among them, and led them to embrace the Catholic truth.

The Semi- arians seem in fact to have consisted of the
really religious men who were at first involved in the
Arian faction ; and Semi-arianism, with its contradictory
propositions, was the first step towards a return to
orthodoxy.

Such was the party of which Basil of Ancyra was one.
He was a native of Ancyra, and of that see he was made
bishop by the Eusebiau council of Constantinople, in
336, when Marcellus was deposed.

Marcellus had been an energetic defender of the
Catholic faith at Nice, but in defending the truth he
afterwards approached the very verge of Sabellianism,
having contended that the Logos was the eternal wisdom of
God, and could be called the Son of God only whilst dwel-
ling in the human form. He, nevertheless, so explained
his positions as to maintain or recover his orthodoxy,
which was acknowledged by Julius, bishop of Rome, by
St Athanasius, and by the council of Sardica; although on
the other hand, later Catholic Fathers, Basil the great, St
Chrysostom, and others, condemn him. Against him
Basil employed his pen, in a work which has been lost.
But whatever was the character of the doctrine taught by
Marcellus, his pupil, Photinus, bishop of Smyrna, taught
Sabellianism without disguise, and was condemned, not
only by the Eusebians at the council of Antioch, in 343,
but even by the western church, at a council held at
Milan, in 346. At the first council of Sirmium, in 351,
he met a formidable opponent in Basil ; a disputation

46 BAS.

being carried on between them in the presence of Con-
stantius. Photinus was formally deprived of his bishopric.

Basil, having thus attacked a heresy in the one ex-
treme, encountered the opposite heresy at the second
synod of Sirmium, in 357, where the pure Arians first
met with an organized opposition from a section of their
own party. The pure Arians were in this synod the
stronger party, and rejected every form of the Homoi-
ousion doctrine. They were henceforth known by the
name of Anomseans, persons who held the Son to be
unlike the Father, — adopting the notions of Arius without
any variation. Basil, to oppose them, assembled a synod
at Ancyra, in 358, at which the Semi-arian doctrine was
confirmed and the Arian rejected. Through the persua-
sive eloquence of Basil, the emperor Constantius was led
to unite himself with the Semi-arian party, and a third
synod at Sirmium, in 358, rejected the confession of faith
adopted at the second, and confirmed the anathemas of
the synod of Ancyra. From this time the strife between
the Arians and Semi-arians was incessant, and the faction
destroyed itself, while Catholic truth was every where
gaining ground.

Basil used all his influence with the emperor to obtain
the convocation of an oecumenical council, but counter
influence was used by the Eusebians, under Acacius, of
Caesarea, and the intrigues on both sides ended in the
meeting of a double council, one at Seleucia, and the
other at Ariminum ; the first for the prelates of the east,
and the other for those of the west. Although the council
of Seleucia had sanctioned the Semi-arian creed, Con-
stantius was persuaded by deputies from both councils,
and by the influence of Acacius, to believe that Basil was
the sole impediment to the peace of the the Church. He
summoned a council of neighbouring bishops, chiefly
those of Bithynia : various charges of a civil and ecclesi-
astical nature were here alleged against Basil and other
Semi-arians, with what degree of truth it is impossible at

BAS. 47

this day to determine, and sentence of deposition was
pronounced against them. This was in the year 360.

Of Basil nothing more is heard except that he pre-
sented a petition for restitution to the orthodox em-
peror Jovian, in 364, without success. He probably
died in exile. — Maimbourg. Newman. Fleury. Gfuiseler.
Lardner.

Basil, Martyr and Saint, was a priest of Ancyra, and
a contemporary of the bishop, to whom the preceding
article refers. He distinguished himself by his orthodoxy
when the court was Arian, and was suspended from his
priestly functions by the Arian council of Constantinople,
in 360.

When Julian the apostate re-established idolatry, and
left no means untried to pervert the faithful, Basil ran
through the whole city, exhorting the Christians to
continue stedfast, and not pollute themselves with the
sacrifices and libations of the heathens, but fight manfully
in the cause of God. The heathens laid violent hands
on him, and dragged him before Satuminus, the pro-
consul, accusing him of sedition, of having overturned
altars, that he stirred up the people against the gods, and
had spoken irreverently of the emperor and his religion.
The proconsul asked him if the religion which the emperor
had established was not the truth? The martyr an-
swered : ' Can you yourself believe it ? Can any man
endued with reason persuade himself that dumb statues
are gods ?' The proconsul commanded him to be tortured
on the rack, and scoffing, said to him, under his torments :
' Do not you believe the power of the emperor to be great,
who can punish those who disobey him ? Experience is
an excellent master, and will inform you better. Obey
the emperor, worship the gods, and offer sacrifice.' The
martyr, who prayed during his torments, with great
earnestness, replied: 'It is what I never will do.' The
proconsul remanded him to prison, and informed his
master Julian of what he had done. The emperor

48 BAS.

approved of his proceedings, and dispatched Elpidius and
Pegasus, two apostate courtiers, in quality of commissa-
ries, to assist the proconsul in the trial of the prisoner.
They took with them from Nicomedia one Asclepius, a
wicked priest of Esculapius, and arrived at Ancyra.
Basil did riot cease to praise and glorify God in his
dungeon, and Pegasus repaired thither to him, in hopes
by promises arjd intreaties, to work him into compliance :
but he came back to the proconsul highly offended at the
liberty with which the martyr had reproached him with
his apostacy. At the request of the commissaries, the
proconsul ordered him to be again brought before them,
and tormented on the rack with greater cruelty than
before ; and afterwards to be loaded with the heaviest
irons, and lodged in the deepest dungeon.

When Julian arrived at Ancyra, he put Basil to death,
under circumstances of peculiar horror, commanding his
skin to be torn off in several places. This happened in
362. Alban Butler concludes his notice of this saint with
the following observations :

" The love of God, which triumphed in the breasts of
the martyrs, made them regard as nothing whatever
labours, losses, or torments, they suffered for its sake,
according to that of the canticles : If a man shall have
given all that he piossesses, he will despise it as nothing. If
the sacrifice of worldly honours, goods, friends, and life,
be required of such a one, he makes it with joy, saying
with the royal prophet, What have I desired in heaven, or
on earth, besides Thee, 0 God ! Thou art my portion for
ever. If he lives deprived of consolation, and joy, in
interior desolation and spiritual dryness, he is content to
bear his cross, provided he be united to his God by love,
and says, my God and my all, if I possess You, I have all
things in You alone : whatever happens to me, with the
treasure of Your love I am rich and sovereignly happy.
This he repeats in poverty, disgraces, afflictions, and
persecutions. He rejoices in them, as by them he is
more closely united to his God, gives the strongest proof

BAS. 40

of His fidelity to him, and perfect submission to His divine
appointments, and adores the accomplishment of His will.
If it be the property of true love, to receive crosses with
content and joy, to sustain great labours, and think them
small, or rather not to think of them at all, as they bear
no proportion to the prize, to what we owe to God, or to
what His love deserves : to suffer much, and think all
nothing, and the longest and severest trials short : is it
not a mark of a want of this love, to complain of prayer,
fasts, and every Christian duty ? How far is this dis-
position from the fervour and resolution of all the saints,
and from the heroic courage of the martyrs ?" — Allan
Butler.

Basil, archbishop of Seleucia, a city of Isauria, flou-
rished in the time of the Eutychian controversy, or the
middle of the fifth century. He was present at the
council of Constantinople in 448, and then he joined in
the condemnation of Eutyches and his heresy. But in
the council of Ephesus, under Dioscorus, in 449, he
joined in the condemnation of Flavian and of the Catholic
faith. He returned to orthodoxy, and apologized for
his conduct at the council of Chalcedon, in 451. From
this it would appear that he was not a man of very
fixed principles. His works are numerous, and still
extant. An account of them is given by Dupin, but
they do not appear to be of much importance. Photinus
speaks of him as an imitator of St Chrysostom, but Dupin
remarks that the homilies of the celebrated patriarch of
Constantinople consist of two parts ; in the first he ex-
plains Scripture according to the letter, and joins to it
some moral reflections ; in the second, St Chrysostom
takes in hand some moral doctrine, which he treats of at
considerable length. Basil of Seleucia meddles not with
the last part, but contents himself with imitating the first.
— Dupin. Tillemont. Cave.

vol. u. b

50 BAS.

Basilides. A gnostic, whose native land was Syria, or
a province more to the east ; according to Tillemont he
left the Church in the time of Trajan, and appeared
chiefly in the time of Adrian. Basnage represents him
as flourishing in the year 121; Mill, in the year 123;
Cave, in 112, or soon after. He certainly lived near the
time of the Apostles, and we are told by Clement, of
Alexandria, that Basilides, or his followers, boasted that
he had been taught by Glaucias, a disciple of St Peter.
Theodoret says that Menander was his master.

The following is the account of his heresy given by
St Irenseus :

"Basilides taught that from the self-existent Father was
born Nous or Understanding ; of Nous, Logos ; of Logos,
Phronesis, Prudence or Providence ; of Phronesis, Sophia
and Dunamis, Wisdom and Power ; of Dunamis and
Sophia, Powers, Principalities, and Angels, whom they
call the superior angels, by whom the first heaven was
made ; from these proceeded other angels and other
heavens, to the number of 365, both angels and heavens :
and therefore there are so many days in the year answer-
able to the number of the heavens. Farther they say
that the angels which uphold the lower heaven, seen by
us, made all things in this world, and then divided the
earth among themselves. And the chief of these, they
say, is he who is thought to be the God of the jews. And
because he would bring other nations into subjection to
the jews, the other princes opposed him, and other nations
opposed that people. But the self-existent and ineffable
Father seeing them in danger of being ruined, sent his
first begotten Nous, who also is said to be Christ, for the
salvation of such as believe in Him, and to deliver them
from the tyranny of the makers of the world ; and that
He appeared on earth as man and wrought miracles ; but
He did not suffer : for Simon of Cyrene being compelled
to bear the cross, was crucified for Him ; he was trans-
formed into the likeness of Jesus, and Jesus took the

BAS. 51

shape of Simon, and stood by looking on, and laughing at
the error and ignorance of those who thought they had
Him in their power ; after which He ascended to heaven.
They who understand these things are to be delivered
from the princes of this world. They also hold that men
ought not to confess him who was crucified, but Him who
came in the form of man, and was supposed to be cruci-
fied, and was called Jesus, and was sent of the Father,
that by this dispensation He might destroy the works of
the makers of the world. He likewise taught that the
soul only would be saved, for the body is in its own nature
corruptible, and incapable of immortality. He moreover
says that the prophecies are from the princes, makers of
the world, and that the law was given by the chief of
them who brought the people out of the land of iEgypt
They make light of things offered to idols, and partake of
them without scruple. And all other actions, and all
kinds of lewdness, are looked upon by them as indifferent.
They practice magic also, and incantations. They have
distributed the local positions of the three hundred and
sixty-five heavens, just as the mathematicians do. For
they have adopted their theorems, and introduced them
into their scheme ; the prince of which they call Abraxas,
that nime having in it the number three hundred and
sixty-five."

It is probable that Basilides did not die before the be-
ginning of the reign of Antoninus Pius. — Irenaus. Frag-
ments of his writings occur in Clemens Alexandrinus and
Epiphanius. Lardner.

Basire, Isaac de Preaumont, was born at Piouen, in
Normandy, 1607. In 16*23 he was sent to the college at
Roterdam, his parents being protestants. Of his early
years nothing is known; but he came to England,
and, having been received into the Church, was ordain-
ed by Morton, bishop of Lichfield, in the year 1629,
and thenceforward he adopted England as his coun-
try. We find him in 1631 filling the office of chaplain

b-> BAS.

to bishop Morton, at Eccleshall castle ; his letters of
naturalization are dated the year following. In 1632
Morton was translated to Durham, and there, as well as
at Aukland, he had the honour to entertain king Charles
the martyr ; and there, too, Basire first learned to feel a
personal regard, in addition to his loyal feelings, for that
prince. Basire was at this time a hard student, as in
writing to Vossius he tells him that he is studying the
Greek fathers, " whose writings he holds as only inferior
in authority to the holy scriptures." In 1635 he was
married to Miss Corbet, a lady of good family in Shrop-
shire. His letters to this lady, and to other persons at
this period of his life, shew the deep abiding piety of his
heart. The reader of the correspondence is struck par-
ticularly with the real comfort which Basire and his
friends derived from their faith in the efficacy of inter-
cessory prayer. He was frequently applied to by his
friends to assist them in their charitable designs, and was
never appealed to in vain. One letter, from Nathaniel
Ward, vicar of Staindross, who afterwards died fighting
for his king and country against the rebels, is interesting,
as giving a picture of the times.

" A report has probably reached you of the fire, which
broke out in my parish last Friday, about three o'clock in
the morning, and in a very short space of time completely
destroyed the cottages of three families, and reduced to
ashes fourteen large stacks of corn. Two of the persons
who have suffered this heavy loss are papists, plunged in
the deepest mire of superstition, whom I have often tried
in vain to recal to more just views of religion : but
enough remains for them to live comfortably. The third,
who is much poorer than the others, is an honest pious
man, who about eight weeks since deserted the camp of
the papists, and took refuge in our Catholic Church. He
has two infant sons, and an excellent wife, who, when a
servant, could never be induced to swerve from the true
faith by the threats of her masters, and since she was
married has in like manner resisted the attempts of her

BAS. 58

husband to convert her. She expects her confinement
soon after Christmas ; but her clothes, beds, and bedding,
all her furniture, and every thing she had prepared for
her lying-in, have been consumed by the fire ; so that I
have been obliged to take the man and his family into
my own house, till God above shall look down in mercy,
and raise up friends to relieve him in his extreme want
and misery. The man's name is Francis Laifield. I
begged a little charity for him yesterday ; and yet, though
my flock have given proof of the most benevolent feelings,
I could not collect enough to procure necessaries for this
poor fellow and his pregnant wife. If therefore you have
no objection, I wish you would lay their wants next
Sunday before your congregation, and extort alms from
them in the name of Christ. For the man is now
deserted by the papists, because he has come back to us —
otherwise, they give out that they would have made up
his losses with interest. I hope, nay I almost feel, that
God will graciously give this man such favour in the eyes
of other people, that he will not stand in need of assist-
ance from the papists, nor ever have reason to regret that
he has bid adieu to Egypt, and sheltered himself in our
holy land. If you collect any thing for him, you may
send it by the steward, or by your servant, to Anthony
Miller ; and I shall employ some faithful messenger to
demand your benevolence of him, at the first opportunity
which offers. I shall feel extremely obliged to you if you
will comply with my request, and be assured that I shall
endeavour, as far as in my power, to return your kindness.
Farewell, and pray for me. Be so good as to write, and
let me know whether your wife has yet been confined.
God preserve her from all danger under the shadow of
His wings."

In 1636 the degree of BD. was conferred upon him

by the university of Cambridge, in compliance with the

king's mandate, and in the course of the same year he

was presented by the bishop of Durham to the living of

e 2

54 BAS.

Egglescliffe, in that county. In 1640 lie took his degree
of DD., and in 1641 he was sworn chaplain extraordinary
to Charles I. and was thus led to an occasional attendance
at the court at Whitehall, at a time when the king needed
to he surrounded by loyal subjects ; for the presbyterian
leaven was spreading destructively through England, and
the London petition had been presented, calling for a
total change of religion, and overthrow of the Church,
signed by 16,000 persons.

On the 12th of December, 1643, Dr Basire was col-
lated to the 7th stall in Durham, by his patron bishop
Morton, and in the August following he was appointed
archdeacon of Northumberland. These appointments,
as Mr Darnell observes, however complimentary to Basire,
were merely nominal, the progress of the civil war
having placed the duties and the emoluments of such
offices alike in abeyance. Two years after, he is under-
stood to have been besieged eleven months in Carlisle.
Hutchinson states that the city underwent a close
blockade, and that the inhabitants suffered much for
want of food. Horses, dogs, and rats, were eaten ; and
hempseed substituted for bread as long as the siege
lasted.

In 1645 Basire was nominated to the living of Stan-
hope ; and in June, 1646, he was summoned by the earl
of Dorset to be in waiting upon the king : but the king
had been bought and sold before Basire could attempt to
obey ; and -Basire himself having been imprisoned in
Stockton castle, in 16i7, made his escape and took refuge
in France.

A total want of the means of subsistence for himself
and his family seems to have driven him abroad. Mrs
Basire was left at Egglescliffe with four children, and
pregnant with another, to struggle, as well as she could,
for the allowance promised by the parliament to the wives
and families of delinquent clergymen. This pittance
went by the name of fifths, and was supposed to be the

BAS. 55

fifth part of their estates and goods seized upon by
parliament ; and by the help of the " committee of seques-
tration,-' and the "committee of plundered ministers,"
appropriated to this purpose. We learn, however, from
contemporary writers that this was quite an imaginary
apportionment, " so that as one truly and sadly said the
fifths were even paid at sixes and sevens," — " which,
however, is true only in the proverbial, and not in the
literal sense, (as bad as that would have been) for I shall
by and by shew, that in those few instances that I find
them paid, it was for the most part after the rate of tens
and twelves." " And truly," says another writer, " their
ordinance for the fifth part, doth generally prove a mere
mockery to the wives and children of the clergy in the
midst of their heavy persecution, and a snare to draw
them into expense of their last groat, in hopes to get their
so fairly promised morsel ; which, as I have known very
few obtain it effectually, so have many of them after some
years of chargeable and vexatious attendance been wearied
out, buying at too dear a rate their repentance of believing
or hoping any justice or mercy from the puritan faction."
x^nthony Wood expressly tells us that " no presbyterian
or independent was ever known to allow any loyalist,
whose places they had occupied for several years, the
least farthing; but rather rejected and avoided them,
vilified, scorned, and exposed them to the plebeians, as
empty, formal, and starched nothings." The subterfuges
employed by the commissioners to evade the payment of
the fifths committed to their charge, are detailed at length
by Fuller in his ecclesiastical history.

It was from Egglescliffe alone that Mrs Basire had
any chance of obtaining a maintenance. The college of
Durham had ceased to exist, and an intra der had estab-
lished himself at Stanhope.

From this time, separated from his family, and, in the
quaint language of Walker, " sequestered, pursevanted,
plundered, and forced to fly," having been thrice shut up
in the seiges of Carlisle and Oxford, and in a confinement

56 BAS.

in Stockton castle, he was a wanderer on the face of the
earth. Going first to his paternal estate at Rouen, he
travelled thence with a few pupils, first into Italy, and so
on into the east. His correspondence, published by the
Rev Mr Darnell, the present worthy rector of Stanhope, is
deeply interesting, and the letters from his wife, though
the orthography is most extraordiuary, are valuable as
shewing the difficulties with which religious and loyal
persons had to contend during the rebellion. It would not
accord with the design of this publication to follow Dr
Basire in his travels, but the following letter to " sir
Richard Brown, resident at Paris, for his majesty of Great
Britain," will make manifest the right feelings which
attended him wherever he went.

" Sie, I have according to my duty acquainted you,
from time to time, with the several passages of my now
seven years voyage. In my last from Aleppo (as yet
unanswered) I gave you an account of my stay in Zantes,
and of my success there, in spreading amongst the Greeks
the Catholic doctrine of our Church, the sum whereof I
imparted to sundry of them in a vulgar Greek translation
of our Church Catechism, the product whereof was so
notable that it drew envy, and consequently persecution
upon me from the Latins. This occasioned my volun-
tary recess into the Morea, where the metropolitan of
Achaia prevailed with me to preach twice in Greek at
a meeting of some of his bishops and clergy, and it was
well taken. At parting I left with him the like copy
" ut supra." From thence, after I had passed through
Apulia, Naples, and Sicily again (in which last at
Messina in Dr Duncom's absence I did for some weeks
officiate aboard a ship) I embarked for Syria, where,
after some months stay in Aleppo, where I had fre-
quent conversation with the patriarch of Antioch, then
resident there, I left a copy of our catechism translated
into Arabic, the native language there. From Aleppo,
I went this last year to Jerusalem, and so travelled

BA>. 5?

over all Palestina. At Jerusalem I received much honour,
both from the Greeks and Latins. The Greek patriarch
(the better to express his desire of communion with our
old church of England by me declared unto himj gave
me this bull or patriarchal seal in a blank (which is
their way of credence) besides many other respects. As
for the Latins, they received me most courteously into
their own convent, though I did openly profess myself
a priest of the church of England. After some velita-
tions about the validity of our ordination, they procured
me entrance into the temple of the sepulchre, at the
rate of a priest, that is half in half less than the lay-
men's rate ; and at my departure from Jerusalem the
pope's ovni vicar (called Commissarius Apostolicus Gene-
ralis) gave me his diploma in parchment under his own
hand and public seal, in it stiling me Sacerdotem
Ecclesiae Angiicanae and S. S. Theologiae Doctorem ; at
which title many marvelled, especially the French am-
bassador here. Returning to Aleppo, I passed over
Euphrates and went into Mesopotamia, (Abraham's
country) whither I am now intending to send our
catechism in Turkish to some of their bishops, Arme-
nians most of them. This Turkish translation is pro-
cured by the good care of sir Thomas Bendyshe, ambas-
dour here. After my return from Mesopotamia, I
wintered at Aleppo, where I may not pass under
silence sundry courtesies I have received from the civil
consul, Mr Henry Riley. This last spring I departed
from Aleppo, and came hither by land (six hundred
miles all alone, I mean without either servant, or Chris-
tian, or any man with me that could so much as speak
the Frank language. Yet by the help of some Arabic
I had picked up at Aleppo, I did perform this journey in
the company of twenty Turks, who used me courteously,
the rather because I was their physician, and of their
friends by the way (a study whereunto the iniquity of
the times, and the opportunity of Padua, did drive me)
so by the good hand of God upon me I arrived safe

53 BAS

hither, where I wish the temper of our age would per-
mit me to express my welcome many ways, into the
house of the lord ambassador, sir Thomas Bendyshe.
Since my arrival hither, the French Protestants here
have taken hold of me ; and after I had declared unto
them my resolution to officiate according to our liturgy,
(the translation whereof, for want of a printed copy, cost
me no little labour,) they have as yet hitherto orderly
submitted to it, and j)romised to settle me, in three
salvable men's hands, a competent stipend : and all this
as they tell me, with the express consent of the French
ambassador, but still under the roof and protection
(eatenus) of the English ambassador. How long this
liberty may last I know not, because they are all of
them bred after the Geneva discipline, and consequently
not like to persevere, or to be suffered to go on in our
way; out of which, God willing, I am resolved not to
depart, though for it I lose this, as I have lost all.
Meanwhile, as I have not been unmindful of our church,
with the true patriarch here, whose usurper now for a
while doth interpose, so will I not be wanting to em-
brace all opportunities of propagating the doctrine and
repute thereof, stylo veteri ; especially if I should about
it receive any commands or instructions from the king,
(whom God save) only in ordine ad Ecclesiastica do I
speak this ; as for instance, proposal of communion
with the Greek church (salva conscientia et honore) a
church very considerable in all those parts. And to such
a communion, together with a convenient reformation of
some grosser errors, it hath been my constant design to
dispose and incline them. Haply, some months hence,
before I leave these parts, I shall pass into Egypt, that
I may take a survey of the churches of the Cophtics, and
confer with the patriarch of Alexandria, as I have done
already with the other three patriarchs, partly to acquire
the knowledge of those churches, and partly to publish
ours " quantum fert status." All along as I have gone,
I have collated the several confessions of faith of the

BAS 59

several sorts of Christians, Greeks, Armenians, Jacobites,
Maronites, &c, which confessions I have with me in their
own languages. I should now long for a comfortable
postliminium to my family, but yet I am resolved rather
intermori in these toilsome ecclesiastical peregrinations,
than to decline the least on either hand from my religion
or allegiance. And oh ! that it were with our church as
whilhome when God Almighty did shine upon our ways,
and uphold both the staves thereof, " beauty and bands ;"
but patience, " hoc erat in votis ; " and to recover both
shall be the prayer and endeavour of,

" Sir, your &c.'"
" Pera, near Constantinople,
20 Julii, 1653."'

The friendly intercourse of an English priest with the
churches of the east is always a subject of deep interest ;
divided as the western church is and is likely to remain.
While he was at Constantinople, in 1654, he received an
invitation from George Eacoczi, prince of Transylvania, to
settle in that country, and he was made by the prince
divinity professor in his newly founded university of Alba
Julia, or Weissenburg. There he remained, endeavouring
to bring about a reformation in religion on the principles
of the English church, till the restoration of king Charles
the second.

He returned to England in 1661 : Evelyn in his diary
thus alludes to him :

"10 July, 1661. In the afternoon preached at the
abbey Dv Basire, that great traveller, or rather French
apostle, who had been planting the church of England in
divers parts of the Levant and Asia. He shewed that the
church of England was for purity of doctrine, substance,
decency and beauty, the most perfect under heaven ; that
England was the very land of Goshen.

" Oct. 29, 1662. I went to court this evening, and had
much discourse with Dr Basire, one of his majesty's
chaplains, who shewed me the syngraphs and original

60 BAS.

subscriptions of divers Eastern patriarchs and Asian
churches to our confession."

He was restored to his preferments, though there was
some difficulty at first to persuade the intruder at
Stanhope, " Anthony Lamant, a Scottish man," to resign
the living to its right owner, and to accept another. The
joy of Dr Basire at being permitted to return to his
family was great, and he entered heartily and zealously
upon his pastoral and other duties. His sense of clerical
responsibility is expressed in a letter to his son Isaac :
" Preaching is a good work, catechizing is a better work,
prayer is best of all." His son Isaac being in London,
mentions that he had called upon his father's old friend,
Dr Busby, who in parting blessed him : and the custom
both of praying for one another, and of asking for the
sacerdotal blessing, seems not at that time to have de-
parted from the English church, for in another letter
Isaac, in writing to his father on some business, states
that "my lord bishop of Carlisle brought me to the bishop
of Exeter, who, upon my begging it, laid his hands upon
me and blessed me." Dr Basire died in 1676: the
following is an extract from his last will and testament :

" In the name of God the Father, God the Son, and
God the Holy Ghost, three persons and one God, blessed
for ever, Amen, I, Isaac Basire, doctor in divinity and (un-
worthy) archdeacon of Northumberland, being at present
in perfect understanding and memory, praised be God,
but having of late years been summoned by diverse in-
firmities, and put in mind of my mortality and death, now
not far of, do make and ordain this my last will and tes-
tament in manner and form following : that is to say,
first, I do in all humility resign my soul unto Almighty
God, the Father of spirits, trusting wholly and only in the
all-sufficient merit, mediation, and full satisfaction of my
Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, who suffered death upon
the cross for me and all mankind. And I do declare
that as I have lived, so I do die, with comfort, in the holy
communion of the church of England, both for doctrine

BAS. 61

and discipline. And I do further protest, that having
taken a serious survey of most Christian churches, both
eastern and western, I have not found a parallel of the
church of England, both for soundness of apostolical doc-
trine and catholic discipline. Item. I desire my executor
to dispose of my body for decent and frugal burial in the
church- j ard ; not out of any singularity, which I always
declined when I was living, but out of veneration of the
house of G od, though I am not ignorant of the contrary
custom : but I do forbid a funeral sermon, although I know
the antiquity and utility of such sermons in the primitive
church to encourage the Christians of those times unto
martyrdom."

Then follow many charitable bequests to his several
parishes, and to the choir of the cathedral church of
Durham.

His works are, " Deo et Ecclesiae Sacrum ; Sacrilege
Arraigned and Condemned by St Paul, Romans ii. 22."
"Diatriba de antiqua Ecclesiae Britannicse libertate." This
was found in the lord Hopton's cabinet, after his decease,
by Richard Watson an exile for his loyalty, who caused it
to be printed at Bruges, and translated it into English,
and published it under the title of "the Ancient liberty
of the Britannic Church." "The history of English and
Scotch Presbytery;" "Oratio privata boni Theologi (spe-
ciatim concionatoris practici) partes praecipuas complex
tens;" "The dead man's real speech; being a sermon
on Heb. xi. 4, at the funeral of Dr John Cosin, late
bishop of Durham, 29th of April, 1672 ; together with a
brief account of the life, actions, and sufferings of the
said bishop :" from this publication we extract the follow-
ing passage :

" And now he is dead, and who knows but that God
took him away from the evil to come ? And as great as
he was, you may see now, that a small plat of ground
must contain and confine him. Sic transit gloria mundi.
He can carry none of all those dignities to his grave ; only
vol. n. f

69 BAS.

his faith and good works do attend him to his grave, and
beyond his grave, for his works do follow him, and that a?
high as heaven, where he now rests from his labours; but
without faith and good works, when a man is dead, vanity
of vanities, all is vanity."

•• This great man was greater by his actions and great
benefactions, concerning which, when in the prosecution
of his great building's, he was interpelled by some with
the mention of his children, his usual answer was, the
Church is my first born: a noble speech, yea a divine sen-
tence, worthy of a king, who may envy it out of a bishop's
mouth. He was greatest of all by his constant sufferings,
in which sen-e John Baptist is styled, ■ Magnus coram
Domino;' not so much for his doings, (though they were
great,) for John * did no miracles/ as for his sufferings;
in which sense our late bishop was greatest, for he was a
constant confessor for Christ and his true religion, and is
but one degree removed from the ' noble army of martyrs,'
into whose blessed society our hope is, that he is now
gathered.'' — The Correspondence of Isaac Basire, DD. pub-
lished by TV. X. Darnell, BD. rector of Stanhope. Wood's
Fasti. Hutchinson's Best of Durham. Walker.

Basnage, Benjamin, a French protestant, was born in
1580. He succeeded his father as minister of the church
of Carentan. in Normandy, and assisted at the national
synod of Charenton. He was also deputy from the French
protestants to James VI. of Scotland. A work by him,
entitled a treatise on the Church, has been much esteemed.
He died in 1653. — Moreri.

Basnage, Anthony, eldest son of the preceding, was
born in 1610. He became minister of Bayeux, and
at the age of seventy-five was thrown into prison at
Havre de Grace. On recovering his liberty, he retired
into Holland, and died at Zutphen in 1691. His son,
Samuel Basnage de Flatinanville. succeeded him in his
congregation at Bayeux, but he was also forced to leave

BAS. 63

France in 1685, and retired to Zutphen, where he died in
IT 21. He wrote Exercitations on Baronius, which he
published in 1706, under the title of Annales politico-
ecclesiastici, 3 vols folio. Of this author Dowling re-
marks : the " Annals of Samuel Basnage, which appear-
ed in 1706, may be described as a work of learning. But
the author avowedly wrote with a controversial purpose.
He was devoted to the doctrines and discipline of the
reformed communion; and he had not the genius and
originality which have sometimes enabled writers of
equally exclusive principles, to exert an influence on the
whole Christian world." — Moreri. Doirfing.

Basnage, James, the celebrated ecclesiastical historian,
was born at Rouen in 1653. He was educated, first at
Saumur, and next at Geneva, after which he became
Huguenot minister at Rouen, but on the revocation of the
edict of Nantes, he retired to Rotterdam. In 1709 he
was chosen one of the pastors of the Walloon congregation
at the Hague ; and he was also employed in state affairs.
The French ambassadors in Holland were directed to
apply to him for his counsel, and in return for his ser-
vices, he obtained the restoration of all his property in
France. He died in 1723. His principal works are —
1. Histoire de la Religion des Eglises Reformees, of which
the best edition is that in 2 vols quarto, 1725. 2. Histoire
de l'Eglise depuis Jesus Christ jusqua present, 2 vols
folio. 3. Histoire de l'Ancien et du Nouveau Testament,
folio. 4. Histoire des Juifs, 15 vols 12mo. This has
been translated into English, in 2 vols folio. Dupin hav-
ing reprinted this work, and adapted it to the doctrines of
the church of Rome, the author was induced to publish
another volume, entitled, L 'Histoire des Juifs reclamee et
retablie, par son veritable auteur, 12mo. 5. Entretiens
sur la Religion, 2 vols 12mo. 6. Antiquites Judaiques,
2 vols 8vo. 7. Annales des Provinces Unies, 2 vols folio.
8, Dissertation Historiques sur les Duels et les Ordres de

BAS.

Chevalerie. Besides these publications, he wrote many
others on polemical and practical divinity.

The remarks of Mr Dowling on Samuel Basnage have
been given above ; Mr Dowling's " Introduction to the
critical study of Ecclesiastical history" is a work of such
learning and impartiality that his early death is to be
deplored as a public loss. His observations on James
Basnage are now presented to the reader.

" The controversial warfare which was occasioned by
the persecuting measures adopted by Louis XIV. towards
his calvinistic subjects, was carried on with more than
common bitterness and animosity. The protestant writers
who took part in it, had most of them suffered from the
tyranny of the oppressor. They had been the victims of
grievous injustice ; and they were not more affected by a
sense of their wrongs, than they were indignant to find
insult added to injury, in the affected mildness and mode-
ration of the writings in which some of their most unfeel-
ing and unrelenting enemies appealed to the world. In-
fluenced as they were by the feelings natural to their
peculiar circumstances, they were not in a condition to
pursue, with success, the study of church-history. Irrita-
tion and resentment ill prepared them for an employ
which may well be called sacred. It would have been but
pious, if, like the hero of the iEneid, they had regarded
themselves as polluted, in combating even for their
homes, and scrupled to handle a hallowed thing till they
were able to think and write with calmness.

Me, bello e tanto digressum et caede recenti,
Adtrectare nefas ; donee me flumine vivo
Abluero.

But their very unfitness operated as a stimulus to their
activity. They were eager to wrest from their antagonists
every weapon which could be used against them. They
were more anxious to obtain a victory, than scrupulous
about the means by which it might be achieved, or soli-
citous about the consequences by which it might be fol-

BAS. 65

lowed. And, accordingly, we find that in maintaining
their own views of the subject, and impugning those of
their opponents, they did not hesitate to assail the most
venerable facts, nor to call in question the most sacred
principles.

" The most important work which was produced under
the circumstances to which I allude, was the " Histoire
de l'Eglise" of the celebrated Jacques Basnage. It was
professedly written in reply to the " Histoire des Varia-
tions des Eglises Protestantes" of Bossuet. He met the
argument of that artful attack on protestantism in a way
little calculated to serve the cause of Christianity, and
followed his countryman Jurieu in plying the invidious
task of exposing the inconsistencies of the ancient Church.
Anxious at all hazards to gain an advantage over his
eloquent opponent, he traces the history of the govern-
ment, the doctrine and worship of the Church, carefully
pointing out the variations which have prevailed in dif-
ferent times and countries. His extensive learning and
great acuteness well fitted him for historical inquiries,
and I am not aware that there is any reason to suspect his
personal orthodoxy. But though bearing the character of
a Christian minister, Basnage was a man of the world,
and had evidently little feeling for the sacredness of
church-history. His book is not only essentially a work
of controversy, but is withal disfigured by the pertness
and flippancy not unfrequent in French writers, and an
unfortunate tone of levity and satire. An affectation of
moderation ill conceals the partizan and the davocate.
We look in vain for impartiality in one who displays
alternately the captiousness of the sceptic, and the ob-
stinacy of the bigot. He had no correct conception of the
objects of church-history, nor any acquaintance with the
true genius of historical composition ; yet his keen and
searching exposures of the prejudices of his opponents,
and his ingenious vindication of his own, entitle his work
to attention. It exercised a considerable influence on
f-2

66 BAX.

future inquirers ; but it was an influence which was not
salutary. Its effect was rather to retard than accelerate
the progress of the science. He was rather a man of de-
tail, than of elevated or comprehensive views; and his
example rather tended to perpetuate the polemical man-
ner which others, who made less pretension to liberality,
had begun tacitly to abandon, than to raise his subject to
the dignity of genuine history." — Moreri. Dowling.

Baxter, Richard, was born in 1615, at Rowton, in
Shropshire. If credit is to be given to the statements
of Baxter, the reformation had, at this period, effected
no further good in our Church, than that of correct-
ing our formularies, and of restoring them to their pri-
mitive simplicity. By his account the clergy were
more corrupt after the reformation than they had been
before : he scarcely knew a clergyman who was not an
ignoramus and a drunkard ; and as for his tutors, they
were all guilty of that idleness of which in our own age
they are accustomed sometimes to accuse their pupils.
But we must make allowance for considerable exaggera-
tion in his statements, as they were not made until he
had become prejudiced against the Church, and his
prejudices led him unintentionally to recur to the past
with a jaundiced eye. Besides, we must always bear in
mind a peculiarity of this distinguished man, who through
life had a tendency to ^consider all men in the wrong,
more or less, except himself. Self-will was perhaps his
besetting sin, and as he formed no sect, so now he has no
place, but stands solitary among theologians. If what he
says of the clergy be true, in that statement archbishop
Laud may find his justification for the zeal with which
he attempted a reform.

But we must do him the justice to say, that if he is
severe on the governors and companions of his youth, he
does not spare himself, for he confesses that he was
addicted to lying, theft, levity, and disobedience to his

BAX. 67

parents : the Holy Spirit Who had been given to him in
his baptism, and Whom he thus grieved, did not leave
him without a warning, for he admits that through his
conscience he was often reproached for these offences,
though he knew not then, and did not, even in after life.
recognize, the sacred Person from whom the warning
came, and that besides the iniquity of the conduct, he
committed the further offence of sinning away baptismal
grace. He was the more without excuse for that he was
trained by pious parents, who were " free from all disaffec-
tion to the then government of the Church, and from all
scruples concerning its doctrine, worship, or discipline ;
they never spake against bishops, or the prayer book, or
the ceremonies of the Church ; but they ' prayed to God
always,' though always by a book or form, generally a
form at the end of the book of common prayer ; they read
the Scriptures in their family, especially on the Lords
day, when others were dancing under a may-pole not far
from their door, to their great interruption and annoy-
ance ; they reproved drunkards, swearers, and other evil
doers ; and they were glad to converse about the Scriptures
and the world to come ; for all which they escaped not the
revilings of the ungodly." Of his father, he further says,
" It pleased God to instruct him, and to change him bv
the bare reading of the Scriptures in private ; and God
made him the instrument of my first convictions and
approbation of a holy life, as well as my restraint from the
grosser sort of livers. When I was very young, his serious
speeches of God, and of the life to come, possessed me
with a fear of sinniug. At first, he set me to read the
historical parts of Scripture, which greatly delighted me ;
and though I neither understood nor relished the doc-
trinal part, yet it did me good by acquainting me with
the matters of fact, and drawing me on to love the Bible,
and to search, by degrees, into the rest." It will be
observed here incidentally, what has been remarked in
the life of Aylmer, that the prohibition of sports on the
Lord's day was not introduced by the reformers, but by

68 BAX.

the puritans, the Lord's day being a feast, and not a fast ;
when Baxter went to court, he found that on the Sunday
evening it was customary to have an interlude, on the
same principle ; high and low, rich and poor, in England
as on the Continent, were, at that time, accustomed, after
the sacred duties of the day had comforted and refreshed
their souls, to devote some time to the innocent recreation
of the body. But when we say this, we must also remember
that our own ancestors and religious persons on the Con-
tinent, while they thus kept the Lords day, the day of our
Lord's blessed resurrection, as a happy festival, were accus-
tomed to observe the Friday, the day of our Lord's cruci-
fixion, as a strict fast. Later in life Baxter seems to have
looked back with greater horror at feeling tempted to join in
the innocent recreations of the people on the Lord's day, no
law existing at the time to prevent them, than he did at
the sins of which he had been guilty, of lying, disobedi-
ence, and theft. Such is the tendency of sectarianism to
corrupt the judgment.

His early education was imperfectly conducted. His
eulogist and biographer, Mr Orme, remarks : " of Hebrew
he scarcely knew anything ; his acquaintance with Greek
was not profound ; and even in Latin, as his works shew,
he must be regarded by a scholar as little less than a
barbarian. Of mathematics he knew nothing, and never
had a taste for them. Of logic and metaphysics he was a
devoted admirer, and to them he dedicated his labour and
delight." " The schoolmen were the objects of his admira-
tion ; Aquinas, Scotus, Durandus, Ockham, and their
disciples, were the teachers from whom he acquired no
small portion of that acuteness for which he became so
distinguished as a teacher, and of that logomachy, by
which most of his writings are more or less deformed."

It is said that he never experienced any " real change
of heart," until he read " Bunney's Resolution," a book
"written by a Jesuit of the name of Parsons," and pub-
lished, with corrections, by Bunney.

BAX. 69

His health from early life was extremely delicate, and
he was affected with nervous debility ; he is said to have
been one of the most diseased and afflicted men that ever
reached the full ordinary limits of human life. And this
is mentioned by his biographers as an excuse for " the
acerbity of his temper, his occasional fretfulness and way-
wardness, and his impatience of contradiction."

In 1638 he was made head-master of a free school at
Dudley, and was ordained by the bishop of Worcester.
He was now rather more than twenty-three years of age,
and considered himself competent to sit in judgment upon
the Church. It is interesting to know what the young
deacon's judgment was, and we find he did not consider
episcopacy to be sinful, and he decided that kneeling at
the holy sacrament was lawful: as to the propriety of
wearing the surplice he doubted ; on the whole he was
inclined to submit to it, but though he officiated in the
church of England, he never wore " that rag of popery"
in his life : the ring in marriage, though a popish custom,
" he did not scruple ;" but the cross in baptism he deemed
unlawful. A form of prayer and liturgy he thought might
be used, and, in some cases, might be lawfully imposed ;
but as to the liturgy of the church of England, "he
thought it had much confusion, and many defects in it."
Discipline he saw much to be wanted, but his youthful
judgment was, that the frame of episcopacy, (a divine
institution) did not absolutely exclude it; and thought
its omission arose chiefly from the personal neglect of
the bishops. Subscription he began to judge unlawful,
and thought that he had sinned by his former rashness ;
for although he did not yet disapprove of a liturgy and
bishops, yet to subscribe ex animo, that there is nothing
in the liturgy contrary to the word of God, was what he
could not do again. The baptismal and ordination
services, as well as the catechism, are indeed so very
catholic, that one is surprised how any one holding ultra-
protestant views, can ever accept them. The very " non-
natural" sense in which the ordination service is explained

70 BAX.

by bishop Sumner, and in which the baptismal offices are
understood by many, may be accepted by persons anxious
to remain in the establishment, but would not suffice for
the strong-minded, self-willed puritans, who sought for a
good reason to ouit it.

Baxter now began to study the works of the puri-
tans, having first read, without receiving satisfaction, the
writings of distinguished churchmen. Among others, he
consulted Hooker, but Hooker's argument had no effect
upon young Baxter. His biographer, Mr Orme, gives
his own opinion of Hooker, which was probably that of
Baxter. " Of the man whom popes have praised, and
kings commended, and bishops without number extolled,
it may be presumptuous in me," says Mr Orme, " to ex-
press a qualified opinion. But truth ought to be spoken.
The praise of profound erudition, laborious research, and
gigantic powers of eloquence, no man will deny to be due
to Hooker. But had his celebrated work been written in
defence of the popish hierarchy, and popish ceremonies,
the greater part of it would have required little alteration.
Hence we need not wonder at the praise bestowed on it
by Clement VIII., or that James II. should have referred
to it as one of two books which promoted his conversion to
the church of Rome. His views of the authority of the
Church, and the insufficiency of Scripture, are much more
popish than protestant ; and the greatest trial to which
the judiciousness of Hooker could have been subjected,
would have been to attempt a defence of the reformation
on his own principles. His work abounds with sophisms,
with assumptions, and with a show of proof when the true
state of the case has not been given, and the strength of
the argument never met. The quantity of learned and
ingenious reasoning which it contains, and the seeming
candour and mildness which it displays, have imposed
upon many, and procured for Hooker the name of
"judicious" to which the solidity of his reasonings, and
the services he has rendered to Christianity, by no means
entitle him."

BAX. 71

Whether Mr Orme or Mr Baxter was competent to sit
in judgment upon Hooker, may admit of a doubt : they
were evidently unable to distinguish between Catholic
truth and Romish corruptions. Baxter had not received
an academical education, and we have the testimony of
his biographer given above, to his qualifications to sit in
judgment on the profound labours of a learned divine.
But as Baxter had no Hebrew, little Latin, and less
Greek, with no mathematics, we must be more grieved
than surprised that Baxter decided that Hooker and the
Church were wrong, and the puritans right ; especially if
it be true, as he asserts, that the puritans led the better
life. He indeed blames them for their " sourness," but
puritan " sourness" so nearly resembles catholic asceticism
in appearance, that it is easy to account for the fact
that they had an influence over the half-educated mind of
an enthusiastic young man desirous of excellence.

The dissenters were now in the ascendant, and had
begun to persecute the clergy. " They had formed," says
Southey, " a committee for religion, which received, like
an inquisition, complaints from any person against
scandalous ministers. To bow at the name of Jesus,
or require communicants to receive the sacrament at
the altar, was cause enough for scandal now; and any thing
which opposed or offended the ruling faction, was compre-
hended under the general name of malignity, a charge as
fatal to the fortunes of those against whom it was brought,
as that of heresy would have been to their lives in a papist
country." To this committee the town of Kidderminstei
petitioned against their vicar as a scandalous minister,
and Baxter represents him to have been a drunkard. If
it was so, he deserved to be suspended, however incom-
petent the tribunal to which the appeal was made. But
it may be stated in his favour, that when he offered to his
parishioners sixty pounds a year as a salary for any
preacher a committee of fourteen should choose, and
promised to confine himself to " the inferior duties" of
prayer and the routine of pastoral work, the offer was ac-

72 BAX.

cepted ; this proves either that they did not substantiate
their charges against him, or that they, like hypocrites,
were willing to compound for crime. Baxter was the
man of their choice, and he accepted the invitation because
"the congregation was large and the church convenient."
But he was not without difficulties : at one time " the
ignorant rabble" raged against him for preaching, as they
supposed, that God hated all infants, because he taught
the doctrine of original sin : the very accusation which is
at the present day brought against those who, because of
original sin, preach the necessity of infant regeneration.
At another time they actually sought his life, and probably
would have taken it, had they found him at the moment
of their rage, because, by order of the parliament, the
churchwardens attempted to take down a crucifix which
the reformers had left standing in the church yard. So
strong was the excitement against Baxter, that he was not
long after obliged to withdraw from Kidderminster, on
account of an attack upon his life by a mob, excited by a
parliamentary order for defacing images of the Holy
Trinity in churches, and for removing crucifixes; of which
they considered Baxter a party, though the execution of
the order had not been attempted. This shews how
attached the people were to their religion, and the old
forms and ceremonies, until by designing and wicked
persons, aided by such well-meaning but half-informed men
as Baxter, their passions were inflamed, and they were
excited to rebellion. What the reformers tolerated, the
puritans destroyed ; and the dissenters of the present day
have inherited the spirit, not of the reformers, but of the
puritans.

When the rebellion commenced, Baxter acted character-
istically : he thought the parliamentarians not quite in
the right, and the king not quite in the wrong ; but while
persuaded that he only could perceive the truth, he
became a decided friend to the cause of the rebels, though
he did not desire the deposition of the king. Having left
Kidderminster, he resided for a time in the ancient city

BAX. 73

of Coventry, and there he took the covenant ; whereby he
was pledged, " without respect of persons, to endeavour
the extirpation of popery, prelacy, (that is, church govern-
ment by archbishops, bishops, their chancellors and com-
missaries, deans, deans and chapters, archdeacons, and
all other ecclesiastical officers depending on the hierarchy, )
superstition, heresy, schism, profaneness, and whatsoever
shall be found to be contrary to sound doctrine and the
power of godliness." " All persons," says Southey, " above
the age of eighteen, were required to take the covenant ;
and such ministers as refused were reported to parliament
as malignants, and proceeded against accordingly. No
fewer than seven thousand clergymen were on this ground
ejected from their livings, so faithful were the great body
of the clergy in the worst of times. The extent of private
misery and ruin which this occasioned, aggravated in no
slight degree the calamities of civil war." Among these
seven thousand confessors Baxter was not : by taking the
coveuant he escaped persecution, but committed himself
as a presbyterian and a rebel.

During the progress of the rebellion he discovered that
many of the rebels went further than he did, and desired
" to master and ruin the king ;" and that there were many
preachers in the rebel army who preached not according
to what he thought orthodoxy. He became therefore a
chaplain in the rebel army : and it is strange to hear him
speaking with contempt of sectaries, as if he had not become
one himself, and with indignation of heterodoxy, as if,
holding, as he did, the right of private judgment, he could
justly, or without a most unchristian violation of charity,
call any one heterodox, merely because the opinions which
he deduced from Scripture happened to differ from those
of Baxter. His position in the army was any thing but
pleasant ; he was an unwelcome guest, and seemed more
surprised than hurt that Cromwell did not admit him into
his councils. His biographer tells us that " nothing but
an extraordinary taste for disputation could have disposed

VOL. II. g

74 BAX.

him to enter on, or have enabled him to continue in, such
a service." But we cannot help thinking that he was
actuated by a yet higher motive : as he had selected the
presbyterian religion to be his own, he thought it the
true religion, and if the true religion, the only religion ;
and when he saw the progress of events in the rebellion
leading on to the establishment of independency, he be-
came alarmed, and in serving his sect, conscientiously
believed that he was serving God. He gives a lamentable
description of the immorality and infidelity even, which
prevailed in the puritan army, and speaks of the leading
ministers as " fierce with pride and self-conceitedness."

While Baxter lived in Coventry the Westminster assem-
bly had been convened by order of parliament; it was
convoked, says Southey " to frame a new model of church
government. A few of the loyal clergy were appointed,
most of whom, in obedience to the king's command, re-
fused to appear upon an illegal summons : a large propor-
tion of seditious preachers, who now openly professed
their presbyterian principles ; some honester men though
further gone in the disease of the age, who, having emi-
grated to Holland, rather than submit to the order of the
Church, returned now to take advantage of its overthrow,
and lastly certain members of both houses, and some com-
missioners from Scotland." It is somewhat remarkable
that Baxter was not a member of this notable assembly,
and when speaking of it, a feeling of disappointment
escapes from him in the expression that he was "not
worthy to be one of them himself." Although he
approved of the assembly in general, and thought it the
most admirable assembly that had existed since the
days of the apostles, except the Synod of Dort ; he criti-
cises it with his usual self-sufficiency : his words are,
" Yet, highly as I honour the men, I am not of their
mind in every part of the government which they would
have set up. Some words in their catechism, I wish had
been more clear : and, above all, I wish that the parlia-

BAX. 75

ment, and their more skilful hand, had done more than
was done to heal our breaches, aDd had hit upon the right
way, either to unite with the episcopalians and indepen-
dents, or, at least, had pitched on the terms that are fit for
universal concord, and left all to come in upon those terms
that would."

In 1647 Baxter was obliged to leave the rebel army by
a sudden illness, and he retired to sir Thomas Rous's,
where he remained some time in a bad state of health.
In the meantime the refractory parishioners of Kidder-
minster had renewed their articles against the vicar, and
the deposing committee had sequestered the place. The
vicarage was now offered to Baxter. Not being iuclined to
involve himself in the difficulties of an office which be-
longed of right to another, he insisted that the sequestra-
tion should remain in the hands of the townsmen, and
that they should make an allowance to him out of the
tithes and other proceeds of the living : he would not steal
the horse, but was willing to ride it when others had acted
the part of thief. The time of Baxter's residence at Kid-
derminster was the happiest and most useful period of
his life. His ideas with respect to the management of a
parish were excellent ; he gave his time and his thoughts
to his people ; he was diligent, generous, and humane ;
and, according to his own account, he was so wonderfully
successful that " on the Lord's day there was no disorder
to be seen in the streets ; but you might hear an hundred
families singing psalms and repeating sermons as you
passed through them. " In a word,** he says, "when I came
thither first, .there was about one family in a street which
worshipped God and called upon His Name, and when I
came away there were some streets where there was not
one poor family on the side that did not so." This boast
could not have been without foundation ; but Baxter was
an egotist, and had such an overweening opinion of him-
self, that what he says must be received with considerable
abatement.

It is certain, however, that his opinions now had under-

76 BAX.

gone a very considerable change in things relating to the
state. Like the other presbyterians, and like ultra-protes-
tants in general, he did not regard rebellion as in itself
sinful. He and the presbyterians were willing to take up
arms against the king in order to compel him to establish
the presbyterian religion, but when they found the rebels
had ulterior objects in view, and that toleration of all
sects and parties, and not the establishment of presbyteri-
anism was likely to be the end of their proceedings, the
presbyterian party became loyalists, and though they did
not, and indeed could not, prevent the murder of the king,
they censured that act of atrocity, and while submitting
to Cromwell, were prepared to assist in the restoration of
Charles II.

Although Baxter had taken the covenant at Coventry,
when he supposed the object of the rebellion was to estab-
lish presbyterianism, he now opposed both that and the
engagement : to the latter he was as a matter of course
opposed ; the imposition of the former he thought inexpe-
dient, as it might hamper men in coming to terms should
an opportunity of restoring the king occur. In all these
proceedings we must remark that Baxter was suffering
under severe disappointment, Cromwell and his officers
having treated him when with the army with as much con-
tempt as they dared. We find him again connected with
the army, but giving the soldiers and general now very
sound advice. In narrating the course he adopted to-
wards them he shews up the hypocrisy of the puritan
rebels, and certainly no*one knew them better than he did :

"When the soldiers were going against the- king and the
Scots, I wrote letters to some of them, to tell them of their
sin ; and desired them at last to begin to know them-
selves. They were the same men who had boasted so much
of love to all the godly, and pleaded for tender dealing
with them, and condemned those that persecuted them or
restrained their liberty, who were now ready to imbrue
their swords in the blood of such as they acknowledged to
be godly ; and all because they dared not be as perjured

BAX. 7i

or disloyal as they were. Some of them were startled at
these letters, and thought me an uncharitable censurer,
who would say that they could kill the godly, even when
they were on the march to do it : for how bad soever they
spake of the cavaliers (and not without too much desert as
to their morals), they confessed, that abundance of the
Scots were godly men. Afterwards, however, those that I
wrote to better understood me.

" At the same time, the Rump, or Commonwealth,
which so much abhorred persecution, and were for liberty
of conscience, made an order that all ministers should
keep certain days of humiliation, to fast and pray for their
success in Scotland : and that we should keep days of
thanksgiving for their victories ; and this upon pain of
sequestration ! So that we all expected to be turned out ;
but they did not execute it upon any, save one, in our
parts. For myself, instead of praying and preaching for
them, when any of the committee or soldiers were my
hearers, I laboured to help them to understand, what a
crime it was to force men to pray for the success of those
who were violating their covenant and loyalty, and going,
in such a cause, to "kill their brethren : — what it was to
force men to give God thanks for all their bloodshed, and
to make Gods ministers and ordinances vile, and service-
able to such crimes, by forcing men to run to God on such
errands of blood and ruin : — and what it is to be such
hypocrites as to persecute and cast out those that preach
the gospel, while they pretend the advancement of the
gospel, and the liberty of tender consciences, and leave
neither tenderness nor honesty in the world, when the
guides of the flocks and preachers of the gospel shall be
forced to swallow down such heinous sins."

At the restoration Baxter was regarded as one of the
leaders of the puritans, with whom the loyalists might
communicate ; but the inconsistency of his principles is
well expressed by his eulogist Mr Orme, who can scarcely
forgive him for his loyalty, such as it was : "he acted with
g 2

78 BAX.

the parliament, but maintained the rights of the king ;
he enjoyed the benefits of the protectorate, but spoke and
reasoned against the protector; he hailed the return of
Charles, but doubted whether he was freed from allegiance
to Richard." The benefits of the protectorate are to be
sought in confiscations to the amount of £83,331,489,
and in the entire loss of liberty on the part of the people.
But such as they were Baxter certainly had his share in
them, as he enjoyed at Kidderminster property which
belonged to another.

Such was Baxter's state of mind and circumstances on
the king's return. " The national feeling," says Southey,
" had already been manifested. At the moment that the
cannon announced the king's peaceful return to the palace
of his fathers, some of the sequestered bishops and other
clergy performed a service of thanksgiving in Henry the
Seventh's chapel, with feelings such as no other source of
joy could ever have excited In most parts of the country,
where the minister was well disposed, a repeal of the laws
against the liturgy was not waited for, so certain was it
held, by every sound old English heart, that the constitu-
tion of their fathers in church as well' as in state was now
to be restored. The presbyterians felt this : but when
they saw how impossible it was to obtain a real triumph,
they sought for such a compromise as might be made to
have the resemblance of one. Their hope now was, that
the Church would give up some of its ceremonies and
alter its liturgy to their liking. But in aiming at this,
their leaders proceeded with a bad faith, which, when it
was detected, abated both the hope and the wish of
conciliating them." Baxter's own account of the transac-
tions of this period fully bears out the accuracy of this
statement, which is further corroborated by the following
passage from lord Clarendon :

" Here," says Clarendon, " I cannot but instance two
acts of the presbyterians, by which, if their humour
and spirit were not enough discovered and known, their

BAX. 79

want of ingenuity and integrity would be manifest ; and
how impossible it is for men who would not be deceived,
to depend on either. When the declaration had been
delivered to the ministers, there was a clause in it, in
which the king declared ' his own constant practice of the
common prayer,' and that he would take it well from
those who used it in their churches, that the common
people might be again acquainted with the piety, gravity,
and devotion of it, and which he thought would facilitate
their living in good neighbourhood together, or words to
that effect When they had considered the whole some
days, Mr Calamy, and some other ministers deputed by
the rest, came to the chancellor to re-deliver it into his
hands. They acknowledged the king had been very
gracious to them in his concessions; though he had not
granted all that some of their brethren wished, yet they
were contented, only desiring him that he would prevail
with the king, that the clause mentioned before might be
left out, which, they protested, was moved by them for the
king's own end, and that they might show their obedience
to him, and resolution to do him service. For they were
resolved themselves to do what the king wished ; first to
reconcile the people, who for near twenty years had not
been acquainted with that form, by informing them that
it contained much piety and devotion, and might be law-
fully used ; and then that they would begin to use it
themselves, and by degrees accustom the people to it,
which they said would have a better effect than if the
clause were in the declaration. For they should be
thought in their persuasions to comply only with the
king's declaration, and to merit from his majesty, and not
to be moved from the conscience of their duty, and so
they should take that occasion to manifest their zeal to
please the king. And they feared there would be other
ill consequences from it by the waywardness of the com-
mon people, who were to be treated with skill, and would
not be prevailed upon all at once. The king was to be
present the next morning, to hear the declaration read the

80 BAX,

last time before both parties, and then the chancellor told
him, in the presence of all the rest, what the ministers
had desired, which they again enlarged upon, with the
same protestations of their resolutions, in such a manner
that his majesty believed they meant honestly, and the
clause was left out. But the declaration was no sooner
published, than, observing that the people were generally
satisfied with it, they sent their emissaries abroad, and
many of their letters were intercepted, and particularly a
letter from Mr Calamy, to a leading minister in Somerset-
shire, whereby he advised and intreated him that he and
his friends would continue and persist in the use of the
Directory, and by no means admit the common prayer in
their churches ; for thus he made no question but that
they should prevail further with the king than he had
yet consented to in his declaration !

" The other instance was, that as soon as the declara-
tion was printed, the king received a petition in the name
of the ministers of London, and many others of the same
opinion with them, who had subscribed that petition,
amongst whom none of those who had attended the king
in those conferences had their names. They gave his
majesty humble thanks for the grace he had vouchsafed
to show in his declaration, which they received as an
earnest of his future goodness and condescension, in
granting all those other concessions, which were abso-
lutely necessary for the liberty of their conscience, and
desired, with importunity and ill manners, that the wear-
ing the surplice, and the using the cross in baptism,
might be absolutely abolished out of the Church, as being
scandalous to all men of tender consciences ! From these
two instances, all men may conclude that nothing but a
severe execution of the law can prevail upon that class of
men to conform to government."

Conciliation was, however, still tried, and after the
vacant sees had been filled up, and the act repealed which
excluded the bishops from parliament, what is commonly
called the Savoy Conference was held on the 15th of April,

BAX. 81

1661, under a warrant issued by the king on the 25th of
March, The commission thus appointed consisted of an
equal number of divines of the church of England and of
presbyterians, the object being to ascertain from the latter
what concessions they required, and from the former whe-
ther the Church was capable of conceding any points to
presbyterian scruples without violation of principle. It is
well known that this conference failed in the object for
which it was intended, and ended in a reformation of our
liturgy and offices of a catholic, not of a presbyterian cha-
racter. Our divines at once perceived that their end was to
be the establishment of God's truth, not the conciliation
of a few persons who, however excellent, were not to be
heard when pleading against the catholic Church. By the
firmness of our divines at that period, the church was
placed in that position in which it now remains.

Baxter took a leading part in the Savoy Conference,
and was distinguished rather by the violence of his con-
duct than by extreme principles : the bitterness of his
spirit as regards this conference is painfully apparent in
the account he gives of it in his life. His self-confidence
was remarkably conspicuous in the fact, that, not content
with objecting to the catholic liturgy of the Church as
reformed in the reigns of Edward, Elizabeth, and James,
he set himself the task of writing an entirely new liturgy,
which he completed in a fortnight. He ventured to do
what the reformers had not attempted, and set up his own
intellect as equal to the wisdom of the whole Church.
Isaac Walton, in his life of bishop Sanderson, makes the
following remarks upon the celebrated conference here
alluded to :

" The points debated were, I think, many; (and I think
many of them needless) some affirmed to be truth and
reason, some denied to be either ; and these debates being
at first in words, proved to be so loose and perplexed, as
satisfied neither party. For some time that which had
been affirmed was immediately forgot, or mistaken, or
denied, and so no satisfaction given to either party. And

82 BAX.

that the debate might become more satisfactory and useful,
it was therefore resolved that the day following the desires
and reasons of the non-conformists should be given in
writing, and they in writing receive answers from the
conforming party. And though I neither now can, nor
need to mention all the points debated, nor the names of
the dissenting brethren ; yet I am sure Mr Richard Bax-
ter was one, and I am sure also one of the points debated
was ' Concerning a command of lawful superiors, what
was sufficient towards its being a lawful command?' —
This following proposition was brought by the conforming
party :

• That command which commands an act in itself law-
ful, and no other act or circumstance unlawful, is not
sinful.'

"Mr Baxter denied it for two reasons, which he gave in
with his own hand in writing thus : one was, ' Because
that may be a sin per accidens, which is not so in itself ;
and may be unlawfully commanded, though that accident
be not in the command.' Another was, ' That it may be
commanded under an unjust penalty.'

"Again, this proposition being brought by the conform-
ists, ' That command which commandeth an act in itself
lawful, and no other act whereby any unjust penalty is
enjoined, nor any circumstance whence per accidens any
sin is consequent which the commander ought to provide
against, is not sinful.'

"Mr Baxter denied it for this reason then given in with
his own hand in writing, thus ; ' Because the first act
commanded may be per accidens unlawful, and be com-
manded by an unjust penalty, though no other act or
circumstance commanded be such.'

"Again, this proposition being brought by the conform-
ists, ' That command which commandeth an act in itself
lawful, and no other act whereby any unjust penalty is en-
joined, nor any circumstance whence directly or per accidens
any sin is consequent, which the commander ought to pro-
vide against, hath in it all things requisite to the lawful-

BAX. 83

ness of a command, and particularly cannot be guilty of
commanding an act per accidens unlawful, nor of command-
ing an act under an unjust penalty.'

" Mr Baxter denied it upon the same reasons.

Peter Gunning.
John Pearson.

"These were then two of the disputants, still live, and
will attest this ; one being now lord bishop of Ely, and
the other of Chester. And the last of them told me very
lately, that one of the dissenters (which I could, but for-
bear to name) appeared to Dr Sanderson to be so bold, so
troublesome, and so illogical in the dispute, as forced
patient Dr Sanderson (who was then bishop of Lincoln,
and a moderator with other bishops) to say with an un-
usual earnestness, ■ That he had never met with a man
of more pertinacious confidence, and less abilities in all
his conversation.' "

In the meantime Baxter had been kindly treated : he
had been one of the chaplains appointed by the king on
his restoration, and had been offered a bishopric. But there
was so much generosity in Baxter's disposition, and such
honest devotion to the cause which, however mistaken, he
considered to be the cause of truth, that he was not to be
bribed; and the offer of a bishopric was disgraceful in
those who made it, while its rejection was honourable to
Baxter. When his vanity was offended he could become
a bitter enemy ; but as to station he desired only that, in
which he knew that he could be useful, and the object of
his ambition was a restoration to Kidderminster, if the
vicar of that parish could be induced to leave it by the
offer of other preferment. This could never be effected,
though Baxter endeavoured to create in the parish a fac-
tion in his own favour, which caused the vicar some trouble.
Being thus disappointed he preached occasionally in the
city of London, having a license from Sheldon, bishop of
London, upon his subscribing a promise not to preach any
thing contrary to the doctrine or the discipline of the
Church. He preached his farewell sermon at Blackfriars

84 BAX.

in May, 1662, and then retired to Acton, in Middlesex,
which was his chief place of residence as long as the act
against conventicles was in force.

All hopes of obtaining a station, for we can hardly say
that he desired preferment, in the church of England
were, of course, renounced by Baxter when the act of
Uniformity passed in 1662. This act required the clergy
of the church of England to conform to the liturgy of the
church of England, and enacted that preachers unor-
dained should receive ordination. " The measure," says
Mr Sou they, " was complained of, as an act of enormous
cruelty and persecution ; and the circumstance of its
being fixed for St Bartholomews day gave the com-
plainants occasion to compare it with the atrocious deed
committed upon that day against the Huguenots of
France. They were careful not to remember that the
same day, and for the same reason, (because tithes were
commonly due at Michaelmas) had been appointed for the
former ejection, by the rebels and dissenters, when four
times as many of the loyal clergy were deprived for fidelity
to their sovereign. No small proportion of the present
sufferers had obtained preferment by means of that tyran-
nical deprivation : they did but drink now of the cup which
they had administered to others." Owing to the act of
uniformity it is said by presbyterians that two thousand
ministers were deprived ; but, says sir Roger L 'Estrange,
" as to your account of two thousand silenced ministers,
a matter of eight or nine hundred difference shall break
no squares between you and me."

Common sense must admit that if the Church was to be
restored in England, none could be admitted to minister
at her altars but those whom the catholic Church considers
to be canonically ordained, and who would conform to her
doctrine and discipline. In these days the very persons
who are wont to censure the conduct of the restora
tion government for thus ejecting men who, at heart,
were presbyterians, are vehement advocates of the prin-
ciple on which they acted, and endeavour by its appli

BAX. 85

cation to drive from the Church all who are supposed
to entertain feelings friendly to Romanism. The conduct
of all parties in the Church at the present time thus vin-
dicates the much censured conduct of the good and wise
men who restored and reformed the church of England
after the restoration. But if such is the case, the change
in public opinion which has subsequently taken place,
will induce another class of persons to regret that a tolera-
tion was not fully established. It was proper that those
only should be permitted to minister in the church of
England who conformed to her formularies, but we must
regret that the presbyterians and others were not permitted
that full toleration which they now enjoy. The truth,
however, is that the government desired a toleration, and
that they were opposed, and strongly opposed by the pres-
byterians and puritans. They wished to be tolerated,
and even demanded to be patronized themselves, but
with the intolerance and the self-deception for which that
party have always been distinguished, they would rather
suffer themselves, than share with others a benefit they
desired. The feeling of the puritans may be perceived
from the following statements of Baxter : on one occasion,
when the puritans were pleading their cause with the
chancellor, lord Clarendon, he " drew out another paper,
and told us that the king had been petitioned also by the
independents and anabaptists ; and though he knew not
what to think of it himself, and did not very well like it,
yet something he had drawn up which he would read to
us, and desire us also to give our advice about it. There-
upon he read, as an addition to the declaration, ' that
others also be permitted to meet for religious worship, so
be it, they do it not to the disturbance of the peace ; and
that no justice of peace or officer disturb them.' When
he had read it, he again desired them all to think on it,
and give their advice ; but all were silent. The presbyte-
rians all perceived, as soon as they heard it, that it would
secure the liberty of the papists ; and Dr Wallis whis-

VOL. II. h

86 BAX.

pered me in the ear, and entreated me to say nothing, for
it was an odious business, but to let the bishops speak to
it. But the bishops would not speak a word, nor any one
of the presbyterians, and so we were like to have ended in
silence. I knew, if we consented to it, it would be
charged on us, that we spake for a toleration of papists
and sectaries : yet it might have lengthened out our own.
And if we spake against it, all sects and parties would be
set against us as the causers of their sufferings, and as a
partial people that would have liberty ourselves, but would
have no others enjoy it with us. At last, seeing the
silence continue, I thought our very silence would be
charged on us as consent, if it went on, and therefore I
only said this : ' That this reverend brother, Dr Gunning,
even now speaking against the sects, had named the
papists and the socinians : for our parts, we desired not
favour to ourselves alone, and rigorous severity we desired
against none. As we humbly thanked his majesty for his
indulgence to ourselves, so we distinguished the tolerable
parties from the intolerable. For the former, we humbly
craved just lenity and favour, but for the latter, such as the
two sorts named before by that reverend brother, for our
parts, we could not make their toleration our request.'
To which his majesty said, there were laws enough against
the papists ; to which I replied, that we understood the
question to be, whether those laws should be executed on
them or not. And so his majesty broke up the meeting
of that day."

On another occasion it seems that a toleration had been
almost obtained, the circumstances of its failure are thus
given by Baxter :

" Having got past Bartholomew's day, I proceed in the
history of the consequent calamities. When I was absent,
resolving to meddle in such businesses no more, Mr Calamy
and the other ministers of London who had acquaintances
at court, were put in hope the king would grant that by
way of indulgence, which was formerly denied them ; and

BAX. M

that before the act was passed, it might be provided that
the king should have power to dispense with such as
deserved well of him in his restoration, or whom he
pleased : but all was frustrated. After this, they were
told that the king had power himself to dispense in such
cases, as he did with the Dutch and French churches, and
some kind of petition they drew up to offer the king ; but
when they had done it, they were so far from procuring
their desires, that there fled abroad grievous threatenings
against them, that they should incur a premunire for such
a bold attempt. When they were drawn to it at first,
they did it with much hesitancy, and they worded it so
cautiously, that it extended not to the papists. Some of
the independents presumed to say, that the reason why
all our addresses for liberty had not succeeded, was be-
cause we did not extend it to the papists ; that for their
parts, they saw no reason why the papists should not have
liberty of worship as well as others ; and that it was better
for them to have it, than for all of us to go without it.
But the presbyterians still answered, that the king might
himself do what he pleased ; and if his wisdom thought
meet to give liberty to the papists, let the papists petition
for it as we did for ours ; but if it were expected that we
should be forced to become petitioners for liberty to
popery, we should never do it whatever be the issue ; nor
should it be said to be our work.

" On the '26th. December, 1662, the king sent forth a
declaration, expressing his purpose to grant some indul-
gence or liberty in religion, with other matters, not
excluding the papists, many of whom had deserved so
well of him. When this came out, the ejected ministers
began to think more confidently of some indulgence to
themselves. Mr Nye, also, and some other of the inde-
pendents, were encouraged to go to the king, and, when
they came back, told us, that he was now resolved to give
them liberty. On the second of January, Mr Nye came
to me, to treat about our owning the king's declaration, by
returning him thanks for it ; when I perceived that it was

88 BAX.

designed that we must be the desirers or procurers of it ;
but I told him my resolution to meddle no more in such
matters, having incurred already so much hatred and
displeasure by endeavouring unity. The rest of the
ministers also had enough of it, and resolved that they
would not meddle; so that Mr Nye and his brethren
thought it partly owing to us that they missed their
intended liberty. But all were averse to have any thing
to do with the indulgence or toleration of the papists,
thinking it at least unfit for them."

There is something particularly naive in the one-sided
view of liberality taken by Baxter in the following passage,
which relates to a plan of toleration suggested by the
government in 1668. "But after all this," says Baxter,
" we were as before. The talk of liberty did but occasion
the writing many bitter pamphlets against toleration.
Among others, they gathered out of mine and other men's
books all that we had there said against liberty for popery,
and for quakers railing against the ministers in open
congregations, which they applied as against a toleration
of ourselves ; for the bare name of toleration did seem in
the people's ears to serve their turn by signifying the same
thing. Because we had said that men should not be
tolerated to preach against Jesus Christ and the scriptures,
they would thence justify themselves for not tolerating us
to preach for Jesus Christ, unless we would be deliberate
liars, and use all their inventions. Those same men,
who, when commissioned with us to make such alterations
in the liturgy as were necessary to satisfy tender con-
sciences, did maintain that no alteration was necessary to
satisfy them, and did moreover, contrary to all our impor-
tunity, make so many new burdens of their own to be
anew imposed on us, had now little to say but that they
must be obeyed, because they were imposed." Baxter
and his friends, being right, ought to be tolerated, all
other parties, being wrong, ought not to be tolerated ; but
why Baxter and his friends were more likely to be right
than independents and papists does not appear.

BAX. 89

In 1672 was issued the king's declaration dispensing
with the penal laws against nonconformists. " When it
came out," says Baxter, "the London nonconformable
ministers were invited to return his majesty their thanks.
At their meeting, Dr Seaman and Mr Jenkins, who had
been till then most distant from the court, were for a
thanksgiving, in such high applauding terms as L»r
Manton, and almost all the rest, dissented from. Some
were for avoiding terms of approbation, lest the parliament
should fall upon them ; and some, because they would
far rather have had any tolerable state of unity with the
public ministry than a toleration; supposing, that the
toleration was not chiefly for their sakes, but for the
papists, and that they should hold it no longer than
that interest required it, which is inconsistent with the
interest of the protestant religion, and the church of Eng-
land : and that they had no security for it, but it might
be taken from them at any time." At this time a] so, the
government ordered fifty pounds a year to be paid to most
of the nonconformist ministers in London, and a hundred
to the chief of them. Baxter, with his usual independence,
sent back his pension, which is represented by Burnet in
the light of hush money.

Since these were the principles by which Baxter was
influenced, we feel less inclined to sympathize with him
in the occasional hardships to which he was exj^osed dur-
ing the reigns of Charles and his brother. He was deter-
mined to preach, and when he preached he was maliciously
watched and malignantly misrepresented, not by the
authorities of the Church, but by the partizans of govern-
ment. To the authorities of church and state he was
often accused, though always unjustly, of sedition. He was
often incautious, and as he was suspected, the misrepre-
sentations of his conduct were easily believed. When he
was in prison, he was merely subjected to restraint, until
the circumstances of his case were enquired into. ( >n

casion, when he was committed bv the magistrate

h a

90 BAX.

under suspicion of being engaged in a seditious movement
with which he was evidently in no way concerned, he
says : " My imprisonment was at present no great suffer-
ing to me, for I had an honest jailor, who showed me all
the kindness he could. I had a large room, and the
liberty of walking in a fair garden. My wife was never
so cheerful a companion to me as in prison, and was very
much against my seeking to be released. She had brought
so many necessaries, that we kept house as contentedly
and comfortably as at home, though in a narrower room,
and had the sight of more of my friends in a day, than I
had at home in half a year. I knew also that if I got out
against their will, my sufferings would be never the
nearer to an end. But yet, on the other side, it was in
the extreme heat of summer, when London was wont to
have epidemical diseases. The hope of my dying in
prison, I have reason to think was one great inducement
to some of the instruments to move to what they did. My
chamber being over the gate, which was knocked and
opened with noise of prisoners just under me, almost
every night, I had little hope of sleeping but by day,
which would have been likely to have quickly broken my
strength, which was so little that I did but live. The
number of visitors daily, put me out of hope of studying,
or of doing any thing but entertain them. I had neither
leave at any time to go out of doors, much less to church
on the Lord's days, nor on that day to have any come to
to me, or to preach to any but my family." His friends
were justly indignant at the treatment he received, and
he says, "the moderate, honest part of the episcopal
clergy were much offended, and I was chosen out design-
edly to make them all odious to the people." The
circumstance took place when at the profligate court of
Charles the church of England was out of favour, and to
spite the Church the government was inclined to treat
with the nonconformists.

In 1662 Baxter had married Margaret, daughter of

BAX. 91

Francis Charleton, Esq., of Shropshire ; and his marriage
created some laughter and surprise, not only because at
forty- seven years of age he allied himself to a young lady
of twenty-two, but because he had been accustomed to talk
rather incautiously in favour of the celibacy (not com-
pulsory) of the clergy. When stating the causes of his
success at Kidderminster, he says, " I found also that my
single life afforded me much advantage ; for I could
easier take my people for my children, and think all that
I had too little for them, in that I had no children of my
own to tempt me to another way of using it. Being
discharged from family cares, and keeping but one servant,
I had the greater vacancy and liberty for the labours of
my calling." Some time before his marriage took place,
he remarks, in his usual egotistic strain, which renders
every thing of public importance in his own estimation
which relates to himself, " it was rung about every where
partly as a wonder, and partly as a crime ; and that the
king's marriage was scarcely more talked about." For
this, remarks Mr Orme, " he had no doubt furnished
some occasion, by the manner in which he had expressed
himself respecting ministers marrying, which he con-
sidered barely lawful."

Besides the controversies to which allusion has already
been made, Baxter had a long discussion, in person and by
writing, with Dr Owen, about the terms of agreement with
Christians of all parties. It was not productive of any
practical effect at the time, and Baxter, of course, lays the
blame of its failure upon Owen. Baxter's biographer re-
marks that in this controversy Baxter was sharp and
cutting in his reproofs, and disposed to push matters too
far. He tells us that Owen frequently made friends of
enemies* while Baxter often made enemies of friends.

After the indulgence in 1672 Baxter returned to Lon-
don, and preached on week-days at Pinner's Hall, at a
meeting in Fetter-lane, and in St James's market house ;
about two years afterwards, he built a meeting-house in

92 BAX.

Oxenden-street. Both there, and in a meeting-house in
Swallow ^ tree t, he was subjected to much annoyance.

In 1682 Charles II being exasperated at the resistance
offered by the presbyterians to any toleration which should
include the papists, resolved to humble the former : and
in common with several others, Baxter was seized for
coming within five miles of a corporate town, contrary to
an act of parliament ; and in 1684 he was seized again.
In the reign of James II he was committed a prisoner to
the King's Bench, and tried before the infamous Jeffries
for his paraphrase on the New Testament, which, because
it contained certain allusions to passing events, and many
unjustifiable and unfair insinuations against prelates and
prelatists, was stigmatized as a scandalous and seditious
hook against the government. The conduct of Jeffries
throughout this affair was atrocious. Baxter was com-
mitted to prison from which after two years he was dis-
charged, the fine which had been imposed upon him being
remitted by the king. When he was in prison he was
visited by his friends, and by many even of the clergy of the
church of England who sympathized with his sufferings,
and deplored the injustice he had received. During his im-
prisonment he enjoyed more quietness, as he admits, than
he had done for many years before. So that in fact the
hardship he suffered was not great, though the conduct
of those who prosecuted and condemned him cannot be
sufficiency reprobated. We have an account of him in
prison from the well known Matthew Henry, in a letter
addressed to his father in 1685.

" I went into Southwark, to ]\Jr Baxter. I was to wait
upon him once before, and then he was busy. I found
him in pretty comfortable circumstances, though a pri-
soner, in a private house near the prison, attended on by
his own man and maid. My good friend, Mr [Samuel]
; Lawrence,] went with me. He is in as good health as
one can expect; and. methinks, looks better, and speaks
heartier, than when I saw him last. The token you sent,

BAX. 93

he would by no means be persuaded to accept, and was
almost angry when I pressed it, from one outed as well as
bimself. He said be did not use to receive ; and I un-
derstand since, bis need is not great.

" We sat witb bim about an bour. I was very glad to
find tbat be so mucb approved of my present circumstances.
He said be knew not wby young men migbt not improve
as well, as by travelling abroad. He inquired for bis
Shropshire friends, and observed, that of those gentlemen
who were with him at Wem, be bears of none whose sons
tread in their father's steps but Colonel Hunt's. He in-
quired about Mr Macworth's, and Mr Lloyd's (of Aston)
children. He gave us some good counsel to prepare for
trials ; and said the best preparation for them was, a life
of faith, and a constant course of self-denial. He thought
it harder constantly to deny temptations to sensual lusts
and pleasures, than to resist one single temptation to deny
Christ for fear of suffering ; the former requiring such
constant watchfulness : however, after the former, the
latter will be the easier. He said, we who are young are
apt to count upon great things, but we must not look for
them; and much more to this purpose. He said he
thought dying by sickness usually much more painful and
dreadful, than dying a violent death ; especially consider-
ing the extraordinary supports which those have who suffer
for righteousness' sake."

The notes and passages referred to in the paraphrase
are here given, and while the reader will conclude that
Baxter received hard measure, we cannot but remark on
the irreverent and unchastened tone of mind with which
be ventured to approach the most sacred subjects, and on
the absence of tbat Christian temper of forgiveness, which
we should have expected in a Christian advanced in
years.

Matt. v. 19. " If any shall presume to break the least
of these commands, because it is a little one, and teach
men so to do, he shall be vilified as he vilified God's law,
and not thought fit for a place in the kingdom of the

94 BAX.

Messiah ; but he shall be there greatest that is most exact
in doing and teaching all the law of God."

Note. — "Are not those preachers and prelates, then, the
least and basest, that preach and tread down Christian
love of all that dissent from any of their presumptions,
and so preach down, not the least, but the great com-
mand."

Mark iii. 6. "It is folly to doubt whether there be
devils, while devils incarnate dwell among us. What else
but devils, sure, could ceremonious hypocrites consult with
politic royalists to destroy the Son of God, for saving
men's health and lives by miracle ? Query : Whether
this withered hand had been their own, they would have
plotted to kill him that would have cured them by mira-
cle, as a sabbath-breaker ? And whether their successors
would silence and imprison godly ministers, if they could
cure them of all their sicknesses, help them to preferment,
and give them money to feed their lusts."

Mark ix. 39. Note. — " Men that preach in Christ's
name, therefore, are not to be silenced, though faulty : if
they do more good than harm, dreadful, then, is the case
of them that silence Christ's faithful ministers."

Mark xi. 31. Note. — " It was well that they considered
what might be said against them, which now most Chris-
tians do not in their disputes. These persecutors, and
the Romans, had some charity and consideration, in that
they were restrained by the fear of ' the people, and did
not accuse and fine them, as for routs, riots, and sedi-
tions.'"

Mark xii. 38-40. Note. — " Let not these proud hypocrites
deceive you, who, by their long liturgies and ceremonies,
and claim of superiority, do but cloak their worldliness,
pride, and oppression, and are religious to their greater
damnation."

Luke x. 2. Note. — "Priests now are many, but labourers
are few. What men are they that hate and silence the
faithfullest labourers, suspecting that they are not for
their interest ?"

BAX. 95

John xi. 57. Note. — " 1. Christ's ministers are God's
ordinances to save men, and the devil's clergy use them
for snares, mischief, and murder. 2. They will not let
the people be neuters between God and the devil, but
force them to be informing persecutors."

Acts xv. 2. Note. — "1. To be dissenters and disputants
against errors and tyrannical impositions upon conscience
is no fault, but a great duty. 2. It is but a groundless
fiction of some that tell us that this was an appeal to
Jerusalem, because it was the metropolis of Syria and An-
tioch, as if the metropolitan church power had been then
settled; when, long after, when it was devised, indeed,
Antioch was above Jerusalem ; and it is as vain a fiction
that this was an appeal to a general council, as if the
apostles and elders at Jerusalem had been a general coun-
cil, when none of the bishops of the Gentile churches
were there, or called thither. It is notorious that it was
an appeal to the apostles, taking in the elders, as those
that had the most certain notice of Christ's mind, having
conversed with him, and being intrusted to teach all
nations whatever he commanded them, and had the
greatest measure of the Spirit ; and also, being Jews
themselves, were such as the Judaising Christians had no
reason to suspect or reject:" — Baxter's Xew Testament in
locis."

The biographer and eulogist of Baxter, Mr Orme,
remarks, that " some of the phraseology is pointed and
severe, characteristic of Baxter's style, but all justly called
for by the treatment which he and others had experi-
enced." The writer of this sentence forgot at the moment
that Baxter professed to be the follower of Him who,
" when He was reviled, reviled not again, when He suffered
He threatened not."

But Baxter was more liberal than the other puritans
with whom he was associated : though his mind was so
constituted that he could accord entirely with no one, he
says :

" If I were among the Greeks, the Lutherans, the In-

96 BAX.

dependents, yea, the anabaptists, owning no heresy, nor
setting themselves against charity and peace, I would
sometimes hold occasional communion with them as
Christians, if they would give me leave, without forcing
me to any sinful subscription or action ; though my most
usual communion should be with that society which I
thought most agreeable to the word of God if I were free
to choose. I cannot be of their opinion, that think God
will not accept him that prayeth by the Common Prayer
Book ; and that such forms are a self-invented worship,
which God rejecteth ; nor yet can I be of their mind that
say the like of extempore prayers."

After he was released from prison he continued to live
some time within the rules of the King's Bench ; till, on
the 28th of February, 1687, he removed to his house in
Charterhouse yard ; and, as far as health would permit,
assisted Mr Sylvester in his public labours. He was too
old to take much part in the revolutionary movements of
1688, and what his opinions were with reference to the
revolution itself is unknown. The dissenting ministers
of London waited upon the Stadtholder on his arrival
with a Dutch army in London, and assured him of their
hearty concurrence in his enterprise ; but Baxter does not
appear to have been of their number. When the tolera-
tion act passed, dissenters were placed under the full
protection of the law, on taking the oaths to government,
and subscribing thirty-five and a half, of the thirty-nine
articles. This was the last public measure in regard to
which Baxter took an active part. He drew up a paper
containing his sense of the articles he was called upon to
subscribe. It is curious to see the same presumption
of mind operating to the last. As the youth of tv> enty-
three sat in judgment upon his mother, the church of
England; so the nonconforming Septuagenarian sat in
judgment on the Catholic Church; for, among other
things, he objected, except with an explanation, to one
important article in the Nicene creed, namely, to the
clause which describes our Lord as " God of God, very

BAX. 97

God of very God ;" whereby he proved himself as ignorant
as he certainly was presumptuous : nor could he assent to
the damnatory clauses of the Athanasian creed, by which
every clergyman of the church of England, having signed
the thirty-nine articles in their plain literal meaning,
assents to an awful anathema upon all who do not hold
the doctrine of the Trinity in the Catholic sense. It seems
certain that he and others were permitted to subscribe in
what has since been called a " non-natural" sense.

The labours and the life of Baxter were now drawing
to a close, and on looking back upon his past life, he
remarks :

" In my younger years, my trouble for sin was most
about my actual failings ; but now I am much more trou-
bled for inward defects and omissions, for want of the vital
duties or graces of the soul. My daily trouble is so much
for my ignorance of God, weakness of belief, want of
greater love to God, strangeness to Him and to the life to
come, and for want of a greater willingness to die, and
more longing to be with God in heaven, that I take not
some immoralities, though very great, to be in themselves
so great and odious sins, if they could be found separate
from these. Had I all the riches of the world, how gladly
should I give them for a fuller knowledge, belief, and
love, of God and everlasting glory ! These wants are the
greatest burden of my life, which oft maketh my life itself
a burden. I cannot find any hope of reaching so high in
these enjoyments, while I am in the flesh, as I once hoped
before this time to have attained ; which maketh me the
wearier of this sinful world, that is honoured with so little
of the knowledge of God."

" Heretofore, I placed much of my religion in tender-
ness of heart, grieving for sin, and penitential tears ; and
less of it in the love of God, in studying His goodness, and
engaging in His joyful praises, than now I do. Then I
was little sensible of the greatness and excellency of love
and praise, though I coldly spake the same words as now

VOL. II. i

P8 BAX,

I do. I am less troubled for want of grief and tears
(though I value humility, and refuse not needful humilia-
tion^, but my conscience now looketh at love and delight
in God, and praising Him as the top of all my religious
duties ; for which it is that I value and use the rest."

He justly observes in another place : — " It can be no
small sin formally, which is committed against knowledge
and conscience and deliberation, whatever excuse it have.
To have sinned while I preached and wrote against sin,
and had such abundant and great obligations from God,
and made so many promises against it, doth lay me very
low : not so much in fear of hell, as in great displeasure
against myself, and such self- abhorrence as would cause
revenge upon myself, were it not forbidden. When God
forgiveth me, I cannot forgive myself; especially for my
rash words or deeds, by which I have seemed injurious
and less tender and kind than I should have been to my
near and dear relations, whose love abundantly obliged
me. When such are dead, though we never differed in
point of interest, or any other matter, every sour, or cross
provoking word which I gave them, maketh me almost
irreconcilable to myself, and tells me how repentance
brought some of old to pray to the dead whom they had
wronged, to forgive them, in the hurry of their passion.

"That which I named before, by-the-by, is grown one of
my great diseases ; I have lost much of that zeal which I
had to propagate any truths to others, save the mere fun-
damentals. When I perceive people or ministers to think
they know what indeed they do not, which is too common,
and to dispute those things which they never thoroughly
studied, or expect that I should debate the case with them,
as if an hour's talk would serve instead of an acute under-
standing and seven years' study, I have no zeal to make
them of my opinion, but an impatience of continuing dis-
course with them on such subjects, and am apt to be silent
or to turn to something else ; which, though there be some
reason for it, I feel cometh from a want of zeal for tl e
truth, and from an impatient temper of mind. I am

BAX. 99

ready to thiDk that people should quickly understand all

in a few words ; and if they cannot, to despair of them,
and leave them to themselves. I know the more that this
is sinful in me, because it is partly so in other things,
even about the faults of my servants or other inferiors : if
three or four times warning do no good to them, I am
much tempted to despair of them, turn them away, and
leave them to themselves.

" I mention all these distempers that my faults may be
a warning to others to take heed, as they call on myself
for repentance and watchfulness. 0 Lord ! for the merits,
and sacrifice, and intercession of Christ, be merciful to
me, a sinner, and forgive my known and unknown sins !"

The latter years of his life were full of bodily suffering
and sorrow ; he was less occupied as a preacher, but was
still indefatigable as a writer. He died on the 8th of
December, 1691.

He is said to have written above 120 books, and to have
had above 60 written against him ; but the chief of his
works are. — 1. A Narrative of his own Life and Times.
2. The Saints* Everlasting Eest. 3. A Paraphr^
the New Testament. 4. A Call to the Unconverted.
5. Dying Thoughts. 6. Poor Man's Family Book.

In some of these works, intermixed of course with much
that is erroneous, there are some beautiful thoughts, and
the fervour with which he threw his whole soul into what
he wrote, has secured for them attention even in the
present day. — Baxter's Life and Tknt
and the contemporary Historians.

Bates. Joshua, was born at Sheffield, in 1671, and was
one of the first persons set apart as preachers by the pres-
byterian dissenters, in 1694. His meeting-house was in
Leather Lane, Holborn, and he was concerned in what is
called the Merchant's Lecture, at Salter's hall. He assist-
ed in completing the exposition of the Bible which had
been left unfinished by Matthew Henry He died in J 740
— Gen. Diet.

100 BAY.

Bayley, Anselm, was educated at Christ church, Ox-
ford, where he took the degree of doctor of laws in 1764.
He became minor canon of St Paul's and of Westminster
abbey, and also sub-dean of the Chapel Royal. He died in
1794. His works are — I. The Antiquity, Evidence, and
Certainty of Christianity canvassed, 8vo. 2. A Practical
Treatise on Singing and Playing, 8vo. 3. A plain and
complete Grammar of the English language, 8vo. 4. A
Grammar of the Hebrew language, 8vo. 5. The Old
Testament, English and Hebrew, with remarks, 4 vols.
8vo. 6. The Commandments of God, in the Jewish and
Christian churches ; two sermons, 8vo. 7. The Alliance
between Music and Poetry, 8vo — Gent. Mag.

Bayly, Lewis, was born at Caermarthen, and educated
at Oxford, where he became reader of the sentences in
Exeter-college in 1611. About the same time he was
vicar of Evesham, in Worcestershire, chaplain to Prince
Henry, and rector of St Matthew, Friday-street, London.
In 1613, he accumulated his degrees in divinity, and in
1616 was consecrated bishop of Bangor. In 1621, he was
committed to the Fleet, but upon what account is not
stated. He died in 1632, and was interred in the cathe-
dral of Bangor. This bishop wrote a book, which was
once extremely popular, and went through sixty editions
in English, besides several in Welch. The title is " The
Practice of Piety," 8vo. and 12mo. — Biog. Brit.

Bayly, Thomas, the youngest son of the bishop, was
educated at Cambridge, and in 1638 obtained the sub-
deanery of Wells. Being at Oxford in 1644, he was
created doctor in divinity, and two years afterwards he
resided as chaplain to the marquis of Worcester, at Rag-
land-castle ; on the surrender of which place, he was em-
ployed to draw up the articles of capitulation. After this,
he travelled abroad, but returned in 1649, and published
a book entitled, " Certamen Religiosum, or a conference
between king Charles I. and Henry, late marquis of Wor-
cester, concerning religion, in Ragland-castle, anno 1646."

BEATON. 101

This work is said to have been written for no other
purpose, than to justify the doctor's conduct in quitting
the church of England for that of Rome. But the
truth of this is questionable, for the relation has all the
evidence of being a real conference ; and the arguments
stated to have been advanced by the king, are far stronger
than those on the other side. The same year Dr Bayly
published " The Royal Charter granted unto Kings ;" for
which he was sent to Newgate ; and while there, wrote a
a book, entitled " Herba parietis, or the Wall-Flower, as
it grows out of the stone chamber belonging to the metro-
politan prison," folio, 1G50. Soon after this he effected
his escape, and went to Douay, where he published a book
called "Dr Bayly's Challenge, in justification of his con-
version." He next travelled into Italy, and died very
poor, in 1659. Besides the above works, he published —
1. Worcester's Apophthegms, or Witty Sayings, of the
Right Honourable Henry, late Marquess and Earl of Wor-
cester, 12mo. 1650. 2. The Life of Bishop Fisher, 12mo.
This last, however, is said to have been written by Dr
Richard Flail, canon of the church of St Omer's, who died
in 1604, and the manuscript falling into the hands of
Dr Bayly, he published it as his own. — Biog. Brit. D odd's
Church Hist.

Beaton, James. This prelate is rather to be regarded
as a statesman than a divine, and the notice of him will
accordingly be brief. He was descended from the family
of Beatons of Balfour, in Fifeshire, and was appointed
provost of the collegiate church of Bothwell, in 1503. In
the next year he became abbot of Dunfermline and prior
of Whitern ; and in 1505, through the favour of king
James VI. , to whom he was greatly acceptable, was pro-
moted to the office of lord high treasurer. In 1508 he
was elected bishop of Galloway, and, in the same year,
was raised to the archiepiscopal see of Glasgow, on which
he resigned the treasurer's place.
2 l

102 BEATON.

When, after the battle of Flodden- field, the regency was
entrusted to the queen mother, Beaton was a prominent
member of the council appointed to advise her; and
when, through her marriage with the earl of Angus, her
authority ceased, it was chiefly through his intervention
that the duke of Albany was enabled to succeed to the
government. He was rewarded by the grateful regent
on his accession to power (1515) with the office of
chancellor of the kingdom. He obtained at the same
time the abbacies of Arbroath and Kilwinning, in com-
mendam.

In 1522 he became archbishop of St Andrews and pri-
mate of the Scottish Church. Referring the reader to the
history of Scotland for a narrative of Beaton's conduct as a
statesman, we shall only mention here, that in his primacy
the first blood was shed in the cause of protestantism.

There were many good and earnest men who felt that a
reform was required in the established church, but the
government was unsettled and the age was revolutionary,
and they were afraid to move. Their constant reference,
however, to the corruptions of the Scottish establishment,
awakened the enthusiasm and inflamed the passions of
younger men. A party among the nobles who envied the
wealth of the Church, and were unscrupulous in their mea-
sures for the advancement of their faction, were soon found
to encourage the protestant feeling. At the same time
Scotland was divided into two great parties, the one deter-
mined to maintain the independence of the country, and
in the French interest, the other in the English interest,
ready, from personal motives, to bring Scotland into sub-
jection to the English crown. As the protestants belonged
entirely to the latter party, they were of course obnoxious
on political as well as on religious grounds to the exist-
ing government. Every conservative feeling was aroused
against the innovators, who were seeking to reform the
Church, and in their zeal for reform would not care to
sacrifice the independence of their country. The pro-

BEATON. Ki3

testants, at first consisted of earnest and zealous men,
admired for their talents and respected for their vir-
tues : while they remained few in number and beneath
notice as a party, the government was quiescent, notwith-
standing the frequent exhortations of timid conservatives
who required that strong measures should be adopted to
put them down. The fury of those, who, attached to the
establishment of the country, required the destruction of
the innovators, has not been surpassed even by the violence
of puritans, when, at a subsequent period, puritanism was
in the ascendant : the heads of the Church and the minis-
ters of the crown were rebuked as careless and indifferent
by those who arrogated to themselves the title of their
best supporters. In the meantime hot-headed young men
had joined the protectant party, and the whole party had
been hurried into excesses ; they boldly proclaimed that
tithes ought not to be paid to the clergy, that every faith-
ful man and woman is a priest, that the unction of kings
ceased at the coming of Christ, that the blessing of bishops
is of no value, that excommunication of the Church is
not to be feared, that oaths are in all cases unlawful,
that true Christians receive the Body of Christ every day :
many added that man has no free will, that all good Chris-
tians know that they are under grace, that works can make
us neither good nor evil, and can neither save nor con-
demn us ; they even went so far as to say that God is the
author of sin, since He withholds his grace from some, and
since without grace they must of necessity sin. The poli-
tical principles maintained by this party may be gathered
from the account of John Major, the author of the De
Gestis Sectorum, as given by Dr Mc'Crie, who says that
he taught "that the authority of kings and princes were
originally derived from the people; that the former are not
superior to the latter collectively considered ; that if the
rulers become tyrannical, or employ their power for the
destruction of their subjects, they may lawfully be con-
trolled by them ; and proving incorrigible may be deposed
by the community as the superior power; and that tyrants

104 BEATON.

may be judicially proceeded against, even to capital pun-
ishment. "The affinity," he adds, "between these and
the political opinions afterwards avowed by Knox, and de-
fended by the classic pen of Buchannan, is too striking to
require illustration." However consistent these principles
may have been with the religion of John Knox, who justi-
fied the murder of Cardinal Beaton and David Rizzio, —
who deposed the queen-regent of Scotland, and embittered
the life of her daughter by his insults, — we are not to be
surprised at finding the conservative feeling of the nation
excited against those who at first maintained them ; or
that when the innovators increased in number, the autho-
rities in church and state should determine to act against
them. They thought, by acting vigorously, to put an end
to what they regarded as an evil. In those days it never
occurred to any one that such an evil could be corrected
except by a public execution. The same class of persons
who a few years ago justified the custom of executing those
who had been convicted of forgery, on the ground that
whatever other good qualities they possessed, the welfare
of a commercial country required their death, would, at
the period now under consideration, demand for the same
reasons the blood of heretics. Blood indeed was shed on
all sides, catholics had recourse to legal executions, pro-
testants to assasinations and murder, each party thinking
the means to be justified by the end.

The first victim was Patrick Hamilton, abbot of Feme,
a Premonstratensian monastery in Ross-shire, who having
learned protestantism from Luther and Melancthon in
Germany, preached it with vehemence on his return home.
He was tried, found guilty, and executed at St Andrews.
But persecution has never answered the purpose for which
it was intended, and as if to mark the divine disapproba-
tion, the result always is, that it proves injurious to the
cause it was designed to serve. This was seen to be the
case by the religious as distinguished from the political
catholics of the period, insomuch that in 1533, when a
young Benedictine. Henry Forest, was condemned to

BEATON. 105

be burnt, one of the archbishops recommended that he
should be burnt in a cellar, for, said he, " the smoke of
Patrick Hamilton hath infected all those on whom it
blew." The manner in which evidence was obtained
against both Hamilton and Forest was infamous : they
were both entrapped by pretended friends into a con-
fession which was used as evidence against them ; and in
the case of Forest, this confession was made sacramen-
tally, and in receiving as well as giving it for the purpose
of condemning him, a principle of the Church was grossly
violated. But Forest seems to have been a man of violent
temper. When he was to be degraded he cried with a
loud voice " Fie a' falsehood ! fie a' false friars ! revealers
of confession : after this day let no man ever trust any
false friars, contemners of God's word and deceivers of
men." When they proceeded to degrade him of his orders,
he said with a loud voice, " Take from me not only your
orders, but also your own baptism."

James Beaton was a man of enormous wealth, and was
described by the English ambassadors as " the man next
the king, of the greatest substance both of lands and goods,
and most esteemed for his policy and wisdom of others."
He lived magnificently, and nearly succeeded in purcha-
sing a cardinal's hat. When it is added that in private
life he was licentious, it will be seen how much the Scot-
tish church at this time needed a reform, and how natural
were the feelings of indignation which the protestants
exhibited, although those feelings hurried them to frightful
excesses. He was not devoid of humanity, and the design
of the new Divinity Hall at Aberdeen was conceived by
him, though he did not live to execute it.

He died in 1539. With reference to his persecutions, it
is said that he was very reluctant to have recourse to them,
and acted rather as a conservative statesman than as a
theologian, for, as Spotiswood observes, " he was neither
violently set, nor indeed much solicitous, as was thought,
how matters went in the Church." — Spotiswood. Keith.
Tytler. Lyons Hist, of St Andrews. Crawford.

106 BEATON.

Beaton, David, nephew to the archbishop, of the same
name, of whom an account has been given in the preceding
article, was born in the year 1494, and was educated first
at St Andrews and afterwards at Paris, where he greatly
distinguished himself. He remained in France for some
time after his ordination, and was at an early period em-
ployed by John duke of Albany. As David Beaton, like
his uncle, was more a statesman than a divine, it will be
unnecessary to do more than allude to the many prefer-
ments he held, and to refer the reader to Tytler's History
of Scotland for an account of his administration and poli-
tical intrigues. But we cannot refrain from again alluding
to the miserable condition of the church in Scotland, when
ecclesiastical preferments were thus used as the cheap
means of remunerating a minister of the crown ; nor let
it be forgotten that this was done with the full sanction of
the pope of Rome. When in 1528 he became abbot of
Arbroath, the pope, dispensed with his taking the habit
for two years, at the wish of the king, who desired his
attendance in France. In the application made in his
behalf, Beaton was styled protonotary of St Andrews,
the king's domestic counsellor and servant, and chancellor
of the church of Glasgow. He had been appointed in
1519 resident at the court of France, and at that time,
being only in deacon's orders, he received from the arch-
bishop of Glasgow the rectory of Campsay. In 1528 he be-
came Lord High Privy Seal ; and by his advice, it is
said, James established in 1530 the college of Justice.
In his various " missions for political objects to France, he
so conciliated the esteem of Francis I., that in 1537 the
French king granted him a license to hold lands and to
acquire benefices in France ; and at the same time con-
ferred upon him the bishopric of Mirepoix. On his return
to Scotland he became coadjutor of his uncle the arch-
bishop of St Andrews, and, owing to the infirmities of his
grace, possessed all the power and influence which at that
time attached to the metropolitan see. On the 28th of
December, 1538, pope Paul III. raised him to the dignity
of Cardinal in the Roman church, by the title of St Ste-

BEATON. 107

phen in Monte Coelio. He was thus a Scotch archbishop,
a French bishop, and a Roman cardinal. On the death
of James Beaton, a few months afterwards, he succeeded
to the primacy of the Scottish church.

As soon as he had been appointed to the primacy he
determined to act vigorously against the reforming party.
He was himself a man of licentious habits, a statesman,
and even a warrior : he is said on one occasion to have
challenged an opponent to single combat ; he was secular
in all his feelings ; he cared therefore as little for religion
as the mere political advocate of Church and state in the
present day, although violent against all opponents. But
the reformers in Scotland were radical reformers, and
were prepared for revolution in the state, as well as in the
Church : in England where, except during the short reign
of Mary, the civil authorities were favourable to a reform
in the Church, the leading reformers were inclined to pay
a deference to the crown which must be considered by us
excessive ; but in Scotland, where an anti-reform govern-
ment existed they were goaded on almost to frenzy, and
were prepared for any revolutionary violence. Cardinal
Beaton, therefore, as a politician, determined to put them
down with a strong hand, and being a churchman also,
was able to avail himself of the instru mentality of the
Church. Accordingly he repaired to St Andrews attended
by the earls of Huntley, Arran, Marshal, and Montrose ;
the lords Fleming, Lindsay, Erskine, Somerville, Torphi-
chen, and Seaton, and several other barons and men of
rank; together with five bishops; and there, in May 1540,
he held a visitation, at which, enquiry was made after
heretics, and sir John Borthwick was condemned for con-
tumacy. About the same time John Killor, a black friar,
Duncan Simpson, a priest of Stirling, Dean Thomas
Forret, vicar of Dalor and canon regular, John Beverage,
black friar, and Robert Forrester, were condemned as
heresiarchs or chief heretics and teachers of heresy. We
are led to pity these sufferers the more, when we consider
the state of the established church in Scotland at tins

108 BEATON.

period. The bishops, of whom the cardinal was not the
worst specimen, were most of them worldly men, thinking
more of their own honour than of promoting God's glory ;
the clergy, when ecclesiastical honours were not within
their reach, were, with some honourable exceptions, seek-
ing their comforts, and among them concubinage very
generally prevailed: a fact which proved their sensual
character, and tended to increase and perpetuate their de-
moralization. They were not permitted to be honourably
married, and though they considered themselves to be so
virtually, yet they felt that there was a stigma upon their
character, and that they could not be accounted devout
men, and so they fell into carelessness of living. That
earnest minded men should be offended at this state of
things is not to be wondered at ; nor is it surprising that
from censuring the conduct of the clergy they should pro-
ceed to a protest against the many strange doctrines
which had crept into the Church : as the first reformers
were generally of the clerical order, it was the more
natural that they should thus go to the root of the evil.
By the bishops and leading persons in Church and state
they were met with hatred and contempt, with misrepre-
sentation and abuse; and thus by degrees, those who com-
menced their career, like sir John Borthwick, who has
just been mentioned, as very moderate reformers, were
hurried on to the most unjustifiable excesses, and instead
of seeking to reform the Church, joined in the infidel cry
of " down with it, down with it, even to the ground."

Well would it have been for Beaton if his angry feel-
ings could have evaporated in a mere visitation charge, or
if the latitudinarian conservatives of the day had been con-
tented with a censure of the reformers upon paper. He
was unfortunately invested with arbitrary power, and
arbitrarily did he use it. By the class of men who would
in these days crowd Exeter Hall to hear a denunciation of
the papists, consigning in their imaginations those from
whom they differed to everlasting perdition, Beaton was
in those days applauded. His course was approved by

BEATON. 109

the nobles of the land, until their influence was purchased
by the reformers through the offer of the property of the
Church.

Cardinal Beaton, like his uncle, though scandalous as a
prelate, was nevertheless an honourable man of the world,
and a lover of his countiy. In order to obtain and to pre-
serve his political influence and station, he had recourse
to all the arts of the politician, but the honour and inde-
pendence of Scotland was ever near his heart. The re-
formers, and those of the nobility who from political con-
siderations joined their party, were willing to hand over
the government of Scotland to the king of England, who
was intriguing for this purpose. It had long been a
favourite object with Henry VIII to unite the two king-
doms under one of his own family : the immediate end
aimed at by himself and his faction in Scotland was
to effect a marriage union between his son, prince Edward,
and Mary, the infant queen of Scots ; and he stipulated to
have charge of the infant queen's person and education, and
to be put in possession of the chief fortresses in Scotland, to
enjoy the title of Protector of Scotland, with power to ap-
point a local regent to act under his directions. How any
patriotic mind could consent to such a measure it is diffi-
cult to imagine : the cardinal was resolutely opposed to it,
and the whole of his ministerial career seems to have
been devoted to the frustration of the schemes of the
English king. Cardinal Beaton had therefore in Henry
a deadly and unscrupulous enemy. Henry the VIHth
had the more power as he was regarded as the patron of
the reformation in Scotland, and as the reformers at all
times looked for protection from him. The royal reformer
checked the excesses of the reforming party in England as
caprice might suggest, or sound policy dictate ; but in
Scotland he gave the reformers his consistent support. In
point of morals there was not much to choose between the
illustrious reformer on the one hand, and the head of the
Scottish conservatives in Church and state on the other,

VOL II. K

110 BEATON.

but it must be admitted that Beaton never had recourse to
such base and mean arts against his adversary, as Henry,
to his everlasting disgrace, condescended to employ. Not
only did Henry, through his minister, seek at one time to
destroy, by misrepresentation, the influence of Beaton with
his sovereign, but he entered at a later period into a con-
spiracy for his private assassination. The offer was made
by the earl of Cassilis, one of the reformers, " for the
killing of the cardinal if his majesty would have it done,
and promise when it was done a reward." The king's
answer to the earl of Hertford, through whom the pro-
posal was transmitted, was, " that his highness reputing
the fact not meet to be set forward expressly by his ma-
jesty will not seem to do in it, and yet not misliking the
offer, thinketh it good that Mr Sadler," to whom Cassilis,
in the first instance, made the offer, " should write to the
earl," and say, that he had not thought proper to com-
municate the project to the king, but that "if he were in
the earl of Cassilis's place, and were as able to do his
majesty good service there, as he knoweth him to be, and
thinketh a right good will in him to do it, he would surely
do what he could for the execution of it," trusting that
" the king's majesty would consider his service in the
same."

The conspirators, as cautious as Henry, were not
satisfied with this answer, and the plot was not immedi-
ately executed, though the assassination of the cardinal at
no distant period was determined upon. Of those who
were fixed upon to carry into effect this diabolical plot,
some were personal enemies of the cardinal, seeking an
opportunity of revenge, some were mercenary wretches,
ready to execute any villany for money, and others were
reforming preachers. Among the persons engaged in
the plot, George Wishart, called by presbyterians " the
martyr," was one; and there seems to be little doubt that
Beaton was well informed of its existence, Wishart,
besides his personal hostility to the cardinal, was under the

BEATON. Ill

influence of excited religious feeling ; he peramly
the counties of Scotland, denouncing popery and the
bishops of the established church, under the armed pro-
tection of the principal conspirators, over whom he exer-

considerable influence, and at whose hoiu
lived. From his knowledge of the conspiracy, and his
acquaintance with the political intrigues of the day, he
sometimes ventured to prophecy, and this he did with
such accuracy, that many religious persons, who were
moved by his preaching, regarded him as inspired. I
these circumstances, Beaton determined to have him
arrested and tried on a charge of heresy, which he knew,
as the law then stood, he would have no difficulty in
substantiating. Accordingly, he prevailed on the governor
of Scotland to send a troop of horse under the command
of the earl of Bothwell, in the beginning of the year 1546,
into East Lothian, where Wishart was staving with one of
the conspirators. Two celebrated reformers were in his
company at the time, John Knox and James Melville : it
was suspicious company, for John Knox maintained the
general doc-trine that it was lawful to destroy tyrants, and
the preacher Melville actually gave the fatal stroke to the
cardinal. As soon as Wishart was secured, he was
to St Andrews, and placed under the charge of the cardinal
himself, who hastened his trial. The forms of ji
appear to have been strictly observed at the trial, and
Wishart, though the real cause of his death was his deter-
mination to assassinate the cardinal, since this could not
be at the time substantiated, though we have now in our
possession full proof of the fact, was condemned as a
heretic. His execution as a heretic excited the compas-
sion of the protestants, and disgusted many who had not
avowed themselves such. He endured his sufferings with
apparent composure and astonishing fortitude, being exe-
cuted on the first of March, 1546. He was accounted a
martyr to the protestant cause, till of late years : but now,
when his share in the conspiracy has been fully proved
his name will probably be obliterated from the protestant

112 BEATON.

calender, except by those who consider that the end jus-
tifies the means however atrocious, and that we may do
wrong that good may come.

Immediately after Wishart's execution, the cardinal set
out on a journey to Tindhaven, for the purpose of marrying
his daughter to the master of Crawford. The bride
received a dower of a thousand marks sterling from her
father, and the ceremony was performed in a style of
uncommon magnificence. Although the cardinal was
accused by his enemies of various intrigues, his daughter
Margaret was his legitimate offspring, for he was married
before he entered into holy orders, and by his wife,
Marion Ogilby, daughter of the first lord Ogilby of Airly,
he had several children. It was not probable that he
would at this period have outraged public decency by
celebrating with such magnificence the marriage of an
illegitimate daughter. After the marriage, the cardinal
returned to St Andrews, to strengthen his fortifications
against another threatened attack of his enemy, king
Henry VIII.

Meanwhile the conspirators were not idle. Either
trembling for their own fate, or anxious to be revenged
for the death of their friend Wishart, they resolved to
delay no longer the accomplishment of their plot. Having
succeeded in gaining admission into the castle of St
Andrews, they murdered the cardinal on the 29th of May,
1546. The following is Tytler's eloquent account of the
bloody deed : — " On the evening of the 28th May, Norman
Lesley came, with only five followers, to St Andrews, and
rode, without exciting suspicion, to his usual inn. William
Kirkaldy of Grange was there already, and they were soon
joined by John Lesley, who took the precaution of entering
the town after night-fall, as his appearance, from his
known enmity to Beaton, might have raised alarm. Next
morning at day-break, the conspirators assembled in small
detached knots in the vicinity of the castle ; and the
porter having lowered the drawbridge to admit the masons
employed in the new works, Norman Lesley, and three

BEATON. 113

men with him, passed the gates, and inquired if the
cardinal was yet awake ? This was done without suspi-
cion ; and as they were occupied in conversation, James
Melville, Kirkaldy of Grange, and their followers, entered
unnoticed ; but on perceiving John Lesley who followed,
the porter instantly suspected treason, and, springing to
the drawbridge, had unloosed its iron fastening, when the
conspirator Lesley anticipated his purpose by leaping
across the gap. To despatch him with their daggers, cast
the body into the fosse, and seize the keys of the castle,
employed but a few minutes; and all was done with
such silence as well as rapidity, that no alarm had been
given. With equal quietness the workmen who laboured
on the ramparts were led to the gate and dismissed.
Kirkaldy, who was acquainted with the castle, then took
his station at a private postern, through which alone any
escape could be made ; and the rest of the conspirators
going successively to the apartments of the different gen-
tlemen who formed the prelate's household, awoke them,
and threatening instant death if they spoke, led them one
by one to the outer wicket, and dismissed them unhurt.
In this manner, a hundred workmen and fifty household
servants were disposed of by a handful of men, who,
closing the gates and dropping the portcullis, were com-
plete masters of the castle. Meanwhile, Beaton, the
unfortunate victim, against whom all this hazard had been
encountered, was still asleep ; but awakening, and hearing
an unusual bustle, he threw on a night-gown, and drawing
up the window of his bedchamber, inquired what it
meant ? Being answered that Norman Lesley had taken
the castle, he rushed to the private postern, but seeing it
already guarded, returned speedily to his own apartment,
seized his sword, and, with the assistance of his page,
barricaded the door on the inside with his heaviest
furniture. John Lesley now coming up, demanded admit-
tance. ' Who are you?' said the cardinal. 'My name/
he replied, « is Lesley.' — ' Is it Norman ?' — asked the

k-2

114 BEATON.

unhappy man, remembering probably the bond of man-
rent. ' I must have Norman, he is my friend.' — ■ Nay, I
am not Norman,' answered the ruffian, ' but John ; and
with me ye must be contented.' Upon which he called
for fire, and was about to apply it to the door, when it
was unlocked from within. The conspirators now rushed
in, and Lesley and Carmichael throwing themselves
furiously upon their victim, who earnestly implored mercy,
stabbed him repeatedly. But ^Melville, a milder fanatic,
(' a man,' says Knox, • of nature most gentle and most
modest,') who professed to murder, not from passion, but
from religious duty, reproved their violence. ■ This judg-
ment of God,' said he, ' ought to be executed with gravity,
although in secret ;' and presenting the point of his sword
to the bleeding prelate, he called on him to repent of his
wicked courses, and especially of the death of the holy
Wishart, to avenge whose innocent blood they were now
sent by God. 'Remember,' said he, 'that the mortal
stroke I am now about to deal, is not the mercenary blow
of a hired assassin, but the just vengeance which hath
fallen on an obstinate and cruel enemy of Christ and the
holy gospel.' On saying this, he repeatedly passed his
sword through the body of his unresisting victim, who
sunk down from the chair to which he had retreated, and
instantly expired. The alarm had now risen in the town ;
the common bell was rung ; and the citizens, with their
^provost, running in confused crowds to the side of the
fosse, demanded admittance, crying out that they must
instantly speak with my lord cardinal. They were an-
swered from the battlements that it would be better for
them to disperse, as he whom they called for could not
come to them, and would not trouble the world any longer.
This, however, only irritated them the more, and being
urgent that they would speak with him, Norman Lesley
reproved them as unreasonable fools who desired an
audience of a dead man ; and dragging the body to the
spot, hung it by a sheet over the wall, naked, ghastly, and

BEATON 115

bleeding from its recent wounds. ' There,' saidj he,
■ there is your God ; and now ye are satisfied, get you
home to your houses:' a command which the people
instantly obeyed. Thus perished cardinal David Beaton,
the most powerful opponent of the reformed religion in
Scotland — by an act which some authors, even in the
present day, have scrupled to call murder. To these
writers, the secret and long-continued correspondence with
England was unknown; a circumstance perhaps to be
regretted, as it would have saved some idle and angry
reasoning. By its disclosure, we have been enabled to
trace the secret history of those iniquitous times ; and it
may now be pronounced, without fear of contradiction,
that the assassination of Beaton was no sudden event,
arising simply out of indignation for the fate of Wishart,
but an act of long projected murder, encouraged, if not
originated, by the English monarch, and, so far as the
principal conspirators were concerned, committed from
private and mercenary motives."

It is lamentable to be obliged to add that the murderers
of Beaton were not thought the worse of by the protest-
ants, for the part they had taken against their common
enemy. They received pensions from the royal reformers
of England, Henry VIII. and Edward VI. ; most of them
rose to high rank in the army ; John Knox, from his
" merry account" of the transaction, and from his calling
it a "godly deed," evidently approved of the murder, and
was probably privy to it : for he was domestic tutor in the
family of the laird of Langnidding, one of Wishart 's
protectors ; he was the intimate friend and sword-bearer
of "the martyr," and subsequently joined the conspirators
in the castle of St. Andrews. Besides this, the " Diurnal
of occurrents in Scotland," expressly states that John
Knox " took pairt of the said treason." Again, James
Melville, as Knox himself tells us, "was familiarly
acquainted with George Wishart," and when he presented
the sword to the cardinals breast, made use of these words,

116 BEAUCAIRE.

4< remember that the fatal stroke I am now about to deal
is not the mercenary blow of a hired assassin, but the just
vengeance which hath fallen on an obstinate, cruel enemy
of Christ and his holy gospel." Alas, that the name of
the Son of God should thus be blasphemed by an assassin,
and alas ! still more, that in the act of murder, the deceitful
and desperately wicked heart should think it was doing
God service. But even Fox, the protestant martyrologist,
affirms that the murderers " were stirred up by the Lord to
murder the archbishop in his bed ;" and the presbyterian
historian, Calderwood, says, " the cardinal intended fur-
ther mischief, if the Lord had not stirred up some men
of courage to cut him off in time." All this, says Mr Lyon,
from whose learned dissertation (appendix, xlii.) these
particulars are taken, " all this shows that in those times
it was not unusual, even among men of high rank, and
professing uncommon piety, to do evil that good might
come, or to justify others in doing so." — Tytler. Lyon.
Spot is wood. Keith. Skinner.

Beaucaire de Peguillon, Francis, was born April
loth, 1514, of one of the most ancient families of the
Bourbonnois, and was one of the first gentlemen of his
nation who applied himself to the study of literature. He
was chosen by Claude de Lorraine, the first duke of
Guise, to be preceptor to his son, cardinal Charles de
Lorraine. He attended the cardinal de Lorraine to Rome,
and on his return the cardinal procured for him the
bishopric of Metz. It wTas reported that the cardinal
retained the revenues of the see, though the report can
only be traced to the imagination of certain calvinists of
Metz, who could not otherwise account for the cardinal's
resignation. The calvinists were alarmed on his arrival
at Metz ; and many of them, to escape martyrdom, fled
from the town, to which they returned on finding that the
zeal of the new prelate merely vented itself in two Latin
tracts on " Sanctification" and " The Baptism of Infants,"
which, as the majority could not understand them, the

BEAUFORT. 117

calvinist leaders pronounced to be easily refuted. He was
taken afterwards by the cardinal to the council of Trent,
and it was before that assembly that Beaucaire delivered
the speech which is to be found in his history of his own
time. At- the council of Trent a misunderstanding occurred
between the cardinal and the bishop of Metz, the latter
having given offence to the ultra-montane members of the
council, by declaring that bishops received their authority
immediately from God, and that they were not merely the
pope's delegates, and that the pope's power is not un-
limited. This is the catholic doctrine, but papists and
presbyterians are, as regards the divine right of episcopacy,
of one mind. He resigned his bishopric in 1568, and
retired to the castle of Creste, his birth-place, where he
spent his time in study till his death. He composed in
his retreat a history of his own time, which was published
in 1625, under the title, Rerum Gallicarum Commentaria,
fol. Lyon. He also wrote a discourse on the battle of
Dreux, 4to, Brescia, 1563, reprinted more than once, and
a treatise De Infantium in Matrum Uteris Sanctificatione,
8vo, Par. 1565, 1567. The latter treatise was written in
opposition to the tenets of the calvinists, who hold that
the children of the faithful are sanctified from their
mothers, a tenet which implies the denial of original sin,
and of the necessity of infant baptism. He died February
14th, 1591.— Moreri. Boyle.

Beaufoet, Henry, was the son of John of Gaunt,
duke of Lancaster, by Catherine Swinford : his character
belongs to the history of statesmen rather than that of
divines. He studied for some years at Oxford, but had
his education chiefly at Aix la Chapelle, where he applied
himself to the civil and common law. The corruptions
of the church of England were at that time many and
great, and the young ecclesiastic was in 1397 elected
bishop of Lincoln in the room of John Buckingham, who
was unjustly compelled to resign. In 1399 he became
chancellor of Oxford and dean of Wells ; in 1404 he was

118 BEAUFORT

appointed lord high chancellor, and the following year
succeeded the celebrated William of Wykeham, in the see
of Winchester. In 1417 he went to the Holy Land, and
in his way attended the council of Constance, where he
exhorted the prelates to union and agreement in the
election of a pope : his remonstrances are said to have
contributed not a little to the preparations for the conclave
in which Martin III. was elected. He was ambitious to
become a cardinal, an office always unpopular in the
church of England, as binding the holder of it to a foreign
church. Henry V. opposed any such appointment as long
as he lived, but in the next reign, during the royal
minority, he obtained the consent of the duke of Bedford,
the regent. He received the cardinal's hat at Calais, in
1426, with the title of St Eusebius. On his return to
England he was received with due respect, but by a
proclamation in the king's name was prohibited from
exercising his legatine power. The proclamation is as
follows : " Whereas the most Christian king Henry VI,
and his progenitors, kings before him of this realm of
England, have been heretofore possessed time out of mind,
with a special privilege and -custom used and observed in
this realm, from time to time, that no legate from the
apostolic see shall enter this land, or auy of the king's
dominions, without the calling, petition, request, invita-
tion, or desire of the king; and forasmuch as Henry,
bishop of Winchester, and cardinal of St Eusebius, hath
presumed to enter as legate from the pope, being neither
called nor desired by the king; therefore the king, by his
procurator, Richard Caudray, doth protest, by this instru-
ment, that it standeth not with the king's mind or intent,
by the advice of Iris council, to admit, approve, or ratify,
the coming of the said legate in any wise, in derogation of
the rights and customs of this realm, or to allow and assent
to any exercise of his legantine power, or to any acts
attempted by him, contrary to the said laws." Such was
the determination of our rulers, to maintain the liberty of
our church, when, by the ambition of private prelates, it was

BEAUFORT. 119

betrayed to the pope, even as in later years, from the same
cause, it has been brought into subjection to the state.

In 1429 he was, however, appointed the pope's legate
in Germany, and general of the crusade against the
Hussites, or heretics of Bohemia, and he prevailed on the
English parliament to make him a grant of money, with
permission to raise a force of 250 spearmen and 2500
bowmen, to enable him to conduct the expedition. Even
with these he was obliged previously to serve for a certain
time under the duke of Bedford in France. He conducted
the crusade in Bohemia with doubtful success, until he
was recalled by the pope, and cardinal Julian was sent in
his place, with a larger army.

In 1430 he crowned Henry VI. at Notre Dame, in
Paris, and was at this period employed in various diplo-
matic affairs in France and Flanders, but finding that the
duke of Gloucester was intriguing against him, he found
it necessary to return to England. Among other articles
of impeachment, which had been exhibited against him
by Gloucester, we find one to be, that "the bishop of
Winchester had not only taken upon himself the dignity
and title of a cardinal, contrary to the express command
of king Henry V, and in derogation of the church of
Canterbury, but having forfeited his bishopric thereby, by
the act of provisions, he had procured a bull from the pope
to secure his bishopric to him, contrary to the laws of the
realm, which made it praemunire to do so." The laws of
the realm protected the liberties of our venerable estab-
lishment, which were, as we have seen before, too often
betrayed by the ambition of individual prelates. The
cardinal, however, prevailed over his opponents, and
obtained letters of pardon from the king, for all offences
by him committed, contrary to the statute of provisions,
and other acts of praemunire. Five years after he obtained
another pardon under the great seal, for all sorts of crimes,
from the creation of the world to the 26th of July, 143T !
This looks like a stretch of the prerogative.

120 BEAUFORT.

The history of the cardinal from the time of his return
to England, becomes little more than the history of his
struggle with the duke of Gloucester, who died suddenly
at Bury St Edmund's, in May, 1447. The cardinal
survived the duke of Gloucester not above a month. The
public feeling was in favour of the duke and against the
cardinal, and Shakespeare has perhaps unjustly depre-
ciated the cardinal, in order to elevate the character of
" the good duke Humphrey." But there is no evidence of
his having been, as was suspected, the contriver of the
duke's murder, or of his being the covetous and reprobate
character which Shakespeare has represented. On the
contrary, we find that when Henry V, a little before his
death, to meet the debts he had contracted by his wars,
cast his eyes upon the wealth of the Church, and was
advised to supply his wants out of the spoils thereof, the
bishop of Winchester, to avert the evil, advanced him as
a loan, twenty thousand pounds out of his own pocket, a
prodigious sum in those days. If such generosity had
existed in our own days, the confiscation of the Irish
bishoprics and of the cathedral property, might have been
averted. At all events, if he amassed great sums, the
public, not a private family, was benefited. He employed
his wealth in finishing the magnificent cathedral of Win-
chester, which was left incomplete by his predecessor ; in
repairing Hyde Abbey, since robbed and destroyed, in the
same city; in relieving prisoners, and other works of
charity. But as Dr Milner remarks, what has chiefly
redeemed the character of cardinal Beaufort in Winchester
and its neighbourhood, is the new foundation which he
made of the celebrated hospital of St Cross. For the
greater part of the present building was raised by him,
and he added to the establishment of his predecessor,
Henry de Blois, funds for the support of thirty-five more
brethren, two chaplains, and three women, who appear to
have been sisters of charity. The foundation still exists ;
but exists to the disgrace of our Church. It would be
well to ascertain how the funds are applied, and whether

BEAUMONT. 121

what was intended for charity, shall still be permitted
only to enrich a master. While such abuses exist, we
may not, for very shame, speak of idle monks. It appears,
also, says Dr Milner, that Beaufort prepared himself with
resignation and contrition for his last end ; and the codicil
of his will being signed only two days before his death,
may justly bring into discredit the opinion that he died in
despair. He directed two thousand marks to be distri-
buted among the poorer tenants of the bishopric, and
forgave the rest all that was due to him at the time of his
death. He left almost to every cathedral and collegiate
church in England jewels and plate of considerable value,
particularly to the church of Wells, of which he had been
dean, 283 ounces of gilt plate, and £418 in money. It is
but justice to record this of one who had suffered himself
to be too much involved in the vortex of politics, and was
often a prey to the passions to which politics give rise.
— Godwin. Milner's Hist, of Winchester. Gough's Life of
Beaufort.

Beaumont, Lewis, was descended from the blood royal
of France and Sicily, and was thus related to queen
Isabella, consort of Edward II. He was made treasurer
of Salisbury in the year 1294, and was advanced to the
see of Durham in 1317, under circumstances which re-
flected great disgrace on the Church. The whole proceed-
ing is one of those many instances to v>hich we have
frequently had occasion to refer, which shews how, during
the middle ages, our excellent establishment was brought
under the dominion of the popes, through the contests
between ambitious ecclesiastics and unscrupulous sove-
reigns. " There were several candidates for the vacant
bishopric. The earl of Lancaster made interest for one
John de Kynardsley, promising, in case of his election, to
defend the see against the Scots. The earl of Hereford
pushed for John Walwayn, a civilian. The king, who was
then at York, would have promoted the election of Thomas

VOL. II. l

1-2-2 BEAUMONT.

Charlton, a civilian, and keeper of his privy seal : but the
queen interposed so warmly in behalf of her kinsman,
Lewis Beaumont, that the king was prevailed upon to
write letters to the monks in his favour. Those religious,
having previously obtained the king's leave to proceed
to an election, rejected all these applications, and made
choice of Henry de Stamford, prior of Finchale, an elderly
man, of a fair character and pleasing aspect, and a good
scholar. The king would have consented to the election,
had it not been for the queen, who on her bare knees
humbly intreated him that her kinsman might be bishop
of Durham. Whereupon the king refused to admit Henry
de Stamford, and wrote to the pope in favour of Beaumont.
At the same time the monks sent the bishop elect to the
pope's court for his holiness's confirmation : but, before
his arrival, the pope, at the instances of the kings and
queens of France and England, had conferred the bishop-
ric on Beaumont. And, to make Henry some amends,
his holiness gave him a grant of the priory of Durham
upon the next vacancy ; but he did not live to enjoy it."
According to the account of Godwin, it is not surprising
that even so unscrupulous a pope as John XXII, should
hesitate at the appointment. Of Beaumont it is related
by Godwin that " he could not read the bulls and other
instruments of his consecration. When he should have
pronounced this word metropoliticm, not knowing what
to make of it, (though he had studied upon it and
laboured his lesson long before) after a little pause, Soyt
purdit (says he) let it go for read, and so passed it over.
In like sort he stumbled at In an'ujmate. When he
had fumbled about it a while, par Saint Lowys (quoth he)
il n est pas curtois qui ceste parolle ici escrit, that is, by
Saint Lewes, he is to blame that writ this word here. Not
without great cause, therefore, the pope was somewhat
straight laced in admitting him. He obtained consecra-
tion so harshly, as in fourteen years he could scarce creep
out of debt. Biding to Durham to be installed there, he

BEAUMONT. 123

was robbed (together with two cardinals that were then in
his company) upon Wiglesden moor near Darlington.
The captains of this route were named Gilbert Middleton
and "Walter Selby. Not content to take all the treasure of
the cardinals, the bishop, and their train, they carried the
bishop prisoner to Morpeth, where they constrained him
to pay a great ransom. Gilbert Middleton was soon after
taken at his own castle of Mitford, carried to London, and
there drawn and hanged in the presence of the cardinals.
After this, one sir Gosceline Deinuill, and his brother
Robert, came with a great company to divers of the bishop
of Durham's houses in the habits of friars, and spoiled
them, leaving nothing but bare walls, and did many other
notable robberies, for which they were soon after hanged
at York. This bishop stood very stoutly in defence of
the liberties of his see, recovered divers lands taken
away from Anthony Beake, his predecessor, and procured
his sentence to be given in the behalf of his church,
Quod episcopus Dunelmensis, debet habere forisfacturas
guerrarum intra libertates, sicut Bex extra, that the
bishop of Durham is to have the forfeitures of war in
as ample sort within his own liberties as the king without.
He compassed the city of Durham with a wall, and built
a hall, kitchen, and chapel at Middleton."

This bishop had a dispute with the archbishop of York,
his metropolitan, concerning the right of visitation in the
jurisdiction of Allerton ; and whenever the archbishop
came to visit, the bishop of Durham always opposed him
with an armed force.

With reference to the decision of the judges alluded to
in the quotation from Godwin, the learned editor of
Camden's Britannia tells us that " the bishop of Durham
antiently had his thanes, and afterwards his barons, who
held of him by knights service ; and that, on occasions of
danger, he called them together in the nature of a parlia-
ment, to advise and assist him with their persons, depend-
ants, and money, for the public service, either at home
or abroad. When men and money were to be levied, it

124 BEAUMONT.

was done by writs issued in the bishop's name out of the
chancery of Durham ; and he had power to raise able men
from sixteen to sixty years of age, and to arm and equip
them for his service. He often headed his troops in
person ; and the officers acted under his commission, and
were accountable to him for their duty. He had a dis-
cretionary power of marching out against the Scots, or of
making a truce with them. No person of the palatinate
could build a castle, or fortify his manor house, without
the bishop's license. And as he had military power by
land, so he had likewise by sea. Ships of war were fitted
out in the ports of the county palatine, by virtue of the
bishop's writs. He had his admiralty courts ; he ap-
pointed, by his patents, a vice-admiral, register, and
marshal or water bailiff, and had all the privileges, for-
feitures, and profits, incident to that jurisdiction."

Beaumont died at Brentingham, in the diocese of York,
September -24th, 1333, leaving the character behind him
of a worthless, avaricious, and prodigal prelate. — Godwin.
Wharton. Camden.

Beaumont, Joseph, was born at Hadleigh, in Suffolk,
in 1615. At the age of sixteen he went to Peter-house,
Cambridge, where he took his degrees, and obtained a
fellowship, of which he was deprived for his loyalty in the
civil war. He then retired to his native place, and after-
wards to Tatingston, with his wife, who was step-daughter
of his patron, Dr Wren, bishop of Ely. At the restoration
he recovered his preferments, was made chaplain in
ordinary to the king, aud obtained the degree of doctor in
divinity by mandamus. In 1663 he was appointed master
of Jesus college, from whence, the year following, he removed
to Peter-house ; with which headship he held the chair of
divinity. He was a man of delicate constitution, as
appears from his having been obliged to obtain from the
vice-chancellor of Cambridge a dispensation to eat meat
in Lent, because fish did not agree with him. This fact
shews that Church discipline was at that time observed in

BECCOLD. 12*

the university. He died in 1699. His works are — 1.
Psyche, a poem, folio, 1648 ; and again with additions,
in 1702. 2. Poems in English and Latin, with remarks
on the Epistle to the Colossians, 4to., 1749. — Jacob's
Lives of the Poets.

Beausobre, Isaac, was bom at Xiort, in upper Poitou,
in 1659. He studied at Saumur, after which he was
ordained, but his congregation being dissolved by the
revocation of the edict of Nantes he retired to Holland,
where he became chaplain to the princess of Anhalt
Dessau. His first work was an attack upon the Lutherans,
and was entitled, Defence de la doctrine des Reformes, in
which he endeavoured to shew that Calvinism was quite
as respectable in its origin as Lutheranism. He speaks
strongly against the bigotry of the Lutherans, for con-
demning all who do not interpret the Bible in the sense of
Luther. In 1694 he removed to Berlin, where he spent the
remainder of his life, and exercised his ministry as one of
the pastors of the French Calvinists} and also as chaplain
to their majesties. He was besides councellor of the royal
consistory, inspector of the French college, and of ail the
French calvinistic churches. He assisted Lenfant to pre-
pare a translation of the Xew Testament ; the Apocalypse
and the Epistles of St Paul were allotted to Beausobre.
The notes are said to have a Socinian tendency ; Calvin-
ism, when becoming liberal, having always a tendency in
that direction. He fell in love with a young girl, when
he was seventy years of age, and either seduced her or
suffered himself to be seduced by her. The familiarity
was soon apparent from her pregnancy, and a marriage
followed. The Calvinists prevented his preaching for four
or five years, and he employed his leisure in writing a
history of Manicheism. He died in 1738. Chauffepie's
Diet. Hist..

Beccold, (alias Bockhold, or Bockelson,) John. This
l a

130 BECOOLD.

leader of the anabaptists was born at Leyden, (and hence
he is called John of Leyden,) and is chiefly distinguished
by the part he took in the commotions excited at Munster,
in 1533, by the Dutch anabaptists, who, says Mosheim,
" chose that city as the scene of their horrid operations."
The progress of protestantism had been such, that the
senate of the city of Munster had driven away the bishop
and his clergy, and supplied their places in 1532 with
protestant ministers. The bishop had, in consequence,
besieged the city, but eventually entered into a treaty
with the inhabitants, by which it was agreed that catholics
and protestants should live peaceably together, that the
former should retain possession of the cathedral, but that
six churches should be appropriated to the protestants.
The treaty was signed on the 14th of February, 1533 ;
and such was the condition of the city, when John
Beccold, accompanied by John Mathias and Gerhard,
another anabaptist, appeared there in the November
following. Beccold's knowledge of Scripture was sur-
prising, and no one could surpass him in the fluency with
which he could quote it, and justify by scriptural authority
all his proceedings. He entered the city determined to
stand by the Bible only, and to maintain, against both
Catholics and Lutherans, the right of private judgment.

When Beccold had prepared a party, Mathias, the
original leader, appeared suddenly among them, and,
blowing on them, said, " Receive ye the Holy Ghost."
They were all of them excited to the highest pitch of
fanaticism, believing now that they had received a com-
mission from on high. Rothman, who had introduced
the reformation into the city, at first opposed them, but
afterwards joined the party, and such was its progress that
the anabaptists soon outnumbered the Lutherans. They
met at night, and converts were still crowding around the
anabaptist teachers, not only in the churches but in the
streets and the market-place. The magistrates in alarm
commanded the leaders to quit the town ; they went, but

BECCOLD. 127

almost immediately returned, declaring that God had
ordered them to remain in the town, and to labour con-
stantly to settle their doctrine there. In vain did the
magistrates invite the anabaptists to a conference, they
would not submit to any reasonable terms : Ruthus, one
of the chief of their preachers, on the contrary, pretending,
or supposing himself to act under divine inspiration, ran
through the city, in December, 1533, crying out ''Repent,
and be baptized again, or else the wrath of God will fall
upon you, for the day of the Lord is at hand." He
preached with wonderful success, and the re-baptized
assumed the title of saints. Peasants from different parts
of Westphalia crowded to the town, regarding the ana-
baptist doctrine as the perfection of protestantism. The
multitude took arms, and seizing the senate house, cried
out, that " they ought to massacre all who were not
re-baptized." The magistrates endeavoured to negociate,
but the anabaptists could not be bound by treaties, and
the magistrates and chief inhabitants fled, leaviDg the
town to the anabaptists. They elected a new senate and
new magistrates, and, raising through the city the cry,
"Repent, or depart this place, ye wicked," they drove away
all who were not of their religion. John Mathias was now
the chief authority, and Beccold, or John of Leyden, was
his lieutenant. The houses were plundered, and Mathias
commanded all the inhabitants, on pain of death, to bring
forth all their gold and silver, into the public treasury,
and to burn all their books but the Bible. He declared
that the bible only should be the law in his new kingdom.
The bishop, assisted by the elector of Cologne and the
duke of Treves, besieged the city, but was driven back,
the defenders being some thousands in number, all ani-
mated by the most wild enthusiasm, and a full conviction
that they, and they only, were the saints. But they
sustained a loss in the death of their leader Mathias,
during a sortie from the walls ; a loss, however, which
did not damp their courage, as Beccold was forthwith
raised to his place, and by his powerful eloquence, soon

128 BECCOLD.

had them under his control. He had. as was believed,
many revelations, and was regarded as a prophet ; one of
the tenets of the sect being, that every impulse from
within was a movement of the Divine Spirit. Under the
direction of a divine revelation, as he now pretended, after
three days silence, he changed the form of government,
and appointed twelve magistrates instead of the former
senate ; but the rule of the magistrates, though his own
creatures, did not continue long, for the people, who had
been taught that in the kingdom of grace all were equal,
and that authority, whether civil or ecclesiastical, was
a tyranny, were astonished one day at being informed that
the new Israel must henceforth be ruled by a king, and
that as the Lord had raised up Saul, so had he raised up
John of Leyden to rule his chosen people. It was per-
plexing, but the people could have no doubt about the
revelation, for to one Tuscoschierer the same revelation
was also made, and the two witnesses were of course
received. BeccolJ had now passed through fanaticism to
hypocrisy, and from licentiousness of intellect to licen-
tiousness of conduct. Still maintaining that he had the
authority of Scripture for all he did, he determined to
use, and to permit others to use, the liberty which, as he
blasphemously asserted, Christ had granted to his saints.
He married eleven wives, and polygamy was allowed as
not contrary to God's Word : he proved the fact to the
satisfaction of the people from the Old Testament ; and
when a simple man suggested that it was less easy to
substantiate the new law by the authority of the Xew
Testament, he was put to death. And now, indeed, blood
freely flowed, for as Beccold derived his authority from
(lod, a word or look which was offensive to him, rendered
the offender worthy of death. Sitting in the market place
as judge, he decided every case according to his own
caprice, pretending for each decision a revelation from
heaven. If a poor woman, not quite convinced of the
lawfulness of polygamy, complained that her husband had
taken another wife ; or if another concealed any portion

BECCOLD. log

of those treasures which ought to have been sent to the
common treasury ; or if a wife was accused by her husband
of disobedience — they were sent at once to the block, where
hundreds suffered for offences such as these. Arrayed in
splendid robes, with a crown on his head and a sceptre in
his hand, the quondam tailor of Leyden sat on the judg-
ment seat, protected by troops, and surrounded by coun-
sellors clad in purple.

While Munster was besieged, the anabaptists published
a book, " The Restitution," in which they promised to the
elect a kingdom hereafter with Christ, to be on earth,
before the day of judgment, and after the destruction of
the ungodly. They taught that the people had a right to
depose magistrates, to assume civil authority, and to
establish by force of arms a new form of government ; that
no man is to be tolerated in the Church who is not a true
Christian ; that none can be saved who retain any private
property; that the pope and Luther were two false
prophets, and (which, considering that they dated the
origin of their principles to him, was the severest blow,)
that Luther was the worst of the two ; that the marriages
of those who were not of the number of the truly faithful,
were impure and so many adulteries : these they taught,
with many other absurdities and abominations.

The anabaptists of Munster sent forth missionaries to
preach this doctrine, and their success was great, while
the enthusiasm with which they endured the penalties
they incurred, when persecuted in the different towns
in which they preached, as persons guilty of sedition, was
worthy of a better cause. The protestant magistrates,
though they had encouraged liberty of speech on religious
subjects to a certain extent, had no idea of tolerating it in
its extreme, and the anabaptist missionaries were soon
seized, examined, and executed. But before they died,
they did their friends in Munster irreparable, though un-
intended, injury : through them it was discovered that the
anabaptists of Munster were in great want of provisions
and ammunition, and the seige was prosecuted with

130 BECKET.

greater vigour. Beccold meantime was not inactive : he
sent two of his prophets into Holland, where the sect was
numerous, to procure reinforcements and provisions ; but
of these one betrayed him, another suffered death, and a
third went to the camp of the beseigers to consult on the
means of surrendering the city where famine was raging,
and many had become disaffected.

The landgrave of Hesse, in the mean time, had caused
their book, "The Restitution," to be confuted; and Luther,
who perceived how this outbreak of ultra-protestantism
would injure his cause, and strengthen the hands of the
Catholics, sent to the anabaptists of Munster " a sharp
book," in which he compares them to Jews and Mahome-
tans. Several other tracts were written on both sides, by
protestants, but nothing was determined.

At length the diet of Worms having granted fresh sup-
plies to the bishop of Munster the city was takerj, and
Beccold himself was dragged at a horse's tail from the
scene of his royalty to a dungeon in the castle. He en-
dured his sufferings and died with wonderful fortitude.
The city was taken on the 24th of June, 1535. Very
severe regulations were made against the anabaptists at
the assembly of Hamburgh ; and the Lutherans, uniting
with the Catholics in their opposition to this sect, it was

entirely dispersed. Brand : Hist: Reform. Belgica.

Dupin. Mosheim.

Becket, Thomas a, was born in London, according to
Fleury, in HIT, or, according to Dupin, in 1119. His
father was Gilbert, one of the principal merchants of
London ; his mother was Matilda, a Saracen, with whom
his father had become acquainted, when, having joined
the crusade, he had been made a prisoner in Palestine.
She was a convert and a devoted Christian, who paid
much attention to the religious training of her son. On
the death of his mother, he was placed by his father under
the care of the canons of Merton, and afterwards con-
tinued his studies in the schools of the metropolis, of

BECKET. 131

Oxford, and of Paris. When his father died, he was
admitted into the family of Theobald, archbishop of
Canterbury, and conducted himself so well, that he
easily obtained permission of his patron to leave England,
that he might improve himself in the knowledge of the
civil and canon law. He studied at Bologna, and at
Auxerre, having, in the first named university, Gratian
for his instructor. On his return to England, he found
some difficulty in maintaining his position in the arch-
bishop's household, as Roger de Ponte Episcopi (Bishop 's-
bridge) a learned man, who was successively archdeacon
of Canterbury and archbishop of York, had established an
influence there, which was exerted against Becket, whose
genius, however, surmounted every obstacle. Having
received as his first preferment the church of Branfield,
he soon after obtained prebends in the churches of
Lincoln and St Paul's ; he was collated also to the
provostship of Beverley, and on the elevation of Pioger to
the see of York, he succeeded him in the archdeaconry of
Canterbury, a preferment equal at that time to a bishopric
in point of emolument, and scarcely inferior in the rank
and influence it conferred upon its possessor. Becket was
at this time only in deacon's orders ; but no law at that
time existed to prevent deacons from holding such high
offices in our venerable establishment, the duty of a
prebendary and of an archdeacon being rather to see that
the services of the church are duly performed, than to
conduct them : it is the office of superintendent, who is
to report irregularities to the bishop.

On the removal of Pioger from the archbishop's
Jiousehold, Becket became, young as he was, the con-
fidential adviser of that prelate, and to his influence
the public attributed the firm adhesion of Theobald to
the cause of Matilda and Henry. This, doubtless, inclined
Henry, when he ascended the throne, in 1154, to listen to
the archbishop the more readily, when he recommended
Becket to his notice ; and the splendid genius, together
with the courtly manners of the archdeacon, soon con-

132 BECKET.

ciliated the royal friendship. Becket was raised to the
high dignity of chancellor, and was admitted to the fullest
confidence of the king, who felt for him as a personal
friend. In a subordinate situation Becket always identified
his own interests with that of his patrou, and devoted
himself to his service, and the affection he evinced to his
employer was returned to himself. This disposition is
often found to exist in those who, when removed from a
subordinate situation, are sturdy maintainers of their own
privileges, and expect from others the homage they have
themselves been accustomed to pay.

The chancellor was appointed preceptor to the young
prince and warden of the tower of London ; he received
the custody of the castle of Berkhampstead, and the honor
of Eye with the services of one hundred and forty knights.
The pride of Henry was gratified with the ascendancy of
his favourite, with whom he lived on terms of familiarity ;
and the chancellor, who is described as remarkably hand-
some, tall, but somewhat slight, and of a florid complexion,
adorned the court as well by the elegance of his deportment
as by the splendour of his talents. His equipage displayed
the magnificence of a prince, and his table was open to
every person who had business at court; a thousand
knights were among his vassals, and every detail of his
establishment indicated at once his splendour and good
taste. He virtually governed the kingdom through the
king. To him has been attributed every useful measure
which distinguished the commencement of Henry's reign ;
he banished the foreign banditti with whom Stephen had
filled the land, he caused the ecclesiastical patronage to be
honestly and judiciously exercised, without simony; and in
the foreign department, by his successful negociations with
the French king, he obtained for his master the cession of
Gisors and five other important places. Various other
important services he rendered to Henry and his country,
for an account of which the reader is referred to the
history of England. But one anecdote may here be men-
tioned, to shew the skill and tact with which he managed

BECKET. 132

the impetuous temper of Henry. The bishop of Le Mans
had given offence to the king by accepting Alexander III
as pope without permission. The king in his rage ordered
the bishop's house to be destroyed, and couriers for that
purpose were dispatched, but before their departure the
chancellor directed them to be four days on the road,
though the ordinary rate of travelling w^ould have brought
them to Le Mans in two. The next day, and the day
after, he set the bishops and others to importune the
king, and the third day he joined them himself; the king,
supposing by this time that the episcopal palace must
have been nearly destroyed-, at last yielded to their entrea-
ties, and the chancellor got him to sign letters to that
effect, and sent them off by a private messenger, who rode
night and day, and arrived just after the king's courier, in
time to save the palace.

Becket wTas aware that he could not hope to influence
the king and his warlike nobles, unless he proved him-
self to be as brave in the field as he was wise in
council. We hear, at the present time, of dignitaries
in the Church who are seen to partake of the fashion-
able amusements of a London life, and wTho justify
themselves, and are justified by others, though censured
by those whom they call "righteous overmuch," on the
ground that by sharing in the amusements of the great
and wealthy, they exercise a useful control over society.
The apology is sufficient so far as it goes, that is, so far as
this, and not his own amusement, is the real object of the
individual so acting. But if the apology is sufficient for
the prelate in this day, wTho attends or presides at the
splendid and fashionable banquet, it is an apology which
must be admitted in the case of the deacon Becket,
when, with the same object in view, he placed himself at
the head of 700 knights, and attended Henry in 1159,
in the prosecution of his claims to Toulouse in the right
of Eleanor, his queen : here he acted the part, not only
of an able military commander, but also of an accomplished

VOL. II. M

134 BECKET.

man-at-arms ; for on one occasion he tilted with a French
knight, whose horse he bore off as an honourable proof of
his victory. On the same principle he became a judge of
hawks and horses, and he must be pardoned, if, when he
became a soldier and a sportsman, he occasionally entered
too keenly into the chase, and forgot his ecclesiastical
position in the enthusiasm of a warrior. He could be
nothing by halves.

That Becket thus acted is true, and it is true that by so
doing he shocked, and justly, the feelings of the more
religious among his contemporaries ; but that in throwing
himself thus into the court and camp he acted, whether
mistakingly or not, on the principle just adverted to, is
apparent, from the fact that though he appeared to others
to have forgotten his ecclesiastical character, it was never
forgotten by himself. That his conduct had always defied
the reproach of immorality, when living even in the
atmosphere of an immoral court, and in intimacy with a
king who attempted to corrupt him, was confidently
asserted by his friends, and, as has been well observed, is
equivalently acknowledged by the silence of his enemies.
In private he resorted to the modes of self-discipline then
customary: the chancellor was at one time discovered
sleeping not on his bed, but on the bare boards exposed
to the cold; and, according to Fitz-Stephen, "in the midst
of his secular greatness and splendour, he used often to
receive on his naked back the secret discipline of the
scourge." By the same contemporary historian we are
told,* that "amidst all the luxury of the court he preserved
such perfect moderation that his rich table ever supplied
a rich alms. I have heard from Robert, his confessor, the
venerable canon of Merton, that while chancellor he never
let luxury pollute him, though the king put snares in his
way day and night." The indignation which he shewed
at an act of profligacy in one of his suite is sufficient to
shew that he feared no retaliation.

The splendour of his equipage may be accounted for

BECKET. 135

as a necessary act of policy in that age, when external
circumstances had much more weight than at present;
although even now simplicity in the great is considered
mean and offensive by vulgar minds. The effect which
he intended to produce by his outward splendour may be
gathered from the effect which upon one occasion it did
produce. When he was sent by Henry to the court of
France, to negociate with Louis, who had threatened to
oppose the pretensions of the king to the earldom of
Nantes, Becket, we are told, not only succeeded in his
mission, but excited, by his magnificence and bearing, so
much admiration, that the people exclaimed, " What
manner of man must the king of England be, when his
chancellor travels in such state.*' When such was the
impression made by external magnificence, we must admit
the wisdom and the sound policy of its assumption on the
part of the chancellor.

Such was Thomas a Becket, lord high chancellor of
England, a man endeavouring to serve two masters ; or,
perhaps, seeking to do his duty to the Church, in a secular
employment, and thinking to advance the cause of God,
not by simplicity of conduct and prayer, but by the arts of
the politician. But the chancellor was soon to attain a
higher office, and with it to present to the eye of the world
an altered character. His first patron, Theobald, died,
and the see of Canterbury became vacant. For thirteen
months the politic Henry kept the see vacant, that the
revenues might be paid into his exchequer. At the end
of that time, when he could no longer with decency
appropriate the revenues of the see, he sent for the chan-
cellor at Falaise, and bade him prepare for a voyage to
England, adding, that within a few days he would be
archbishop of Canterbury. Henry had mistaken Becket's
character. He regarded him as a mere worldling, who,
provided his selfish interests were secured, would bind the
English church to the will of the monarch. He had seen
how the chancellor had controlled the lay nobility, and he
expected him to exercise the same control over the Church

136 BECKET.

of England, and to render it subservient to his purposes.
But, as we have seen, Becket was of that high class of
mind, which, identifying itself with a cause, without
rejecting the incidental advantages which niay accrue to
it, would willingly for that cause sacrifice self and every
selfish interest. He knew himself and Henry, and he
forewarned the king of what would be the consequence of
his accepting the present offer ; of the offence likely to be
taken at the sudden elevation of one who had lived neither
as a self-denying monk nor as a hard-working parish
priest, but as a worldly-minded archdeacon, in a court not
proverbial for its strictness. Pointing to his dress, he
remarked with a smile, that he had not much the appear-
ance of an archbishop ; and with that tenderness, which,
notwithstanding the vehemence of his temper when pro-
voked, was characteristic of his disposition, he alluded to
the almost inevitable disruption of the friendship between
himself and his royal master. As chancellor he might
influence the royal mind to good, when measures against
the Church were designed ; it would be his duty to
remonstrate, not to oppose him ; but as archbishop he
would have, he foresaw, openly to oppose one who could
brook no opposition. " I know of a surety," he said,
according to the statement of Hubert de Bascham, " that
if by God's providence this should happen, you will soon
take your heart from me, and the friendship which is now
so strong between us, will be converted into the most
furious hatred. I am aware that you are going to proceed
to some exactions, and that you already invade the Church's
rights in a manner I cannot tolerate ; and thus envious
persons will go between us, and extinguish our attach-
ment." From this it seems probable that he had already
restrained the king in his designs against the Church,
although, it may be, he did not always succeed in his
attempt to do so.

Thomas a Becket at last acquiesced, contrary to his
own judgment ; the entreaties of cardinal Henry of Pisa,
being added to the commands of the king, he sailed for

BECKET. -137

England. He was elected by the prelates, and a deputa-
tion of the chapter of Canterbury, assembled at West-
minster ; every vote was given in his favour ; the applause
of the nobility testified their satisfaction, and prince
Henry, in the name of his father, gave the royal assent.
He was ordained priest on Trinity Sunday, 1162, by the
bishop of Rochester, and on the following day was con-
secrated by Henry, bishop of Winchester, assisted by
thirteen of his episcopal brethren. Gilbert Foliot alone,
then bishop of Hereford, and afterwards bishop of London,
jeeringly observed, that the king had at last wrought a
miracle, for he had changed a soldier into a priest, a
layman into an archbishop. The advocates of Becket
have regarded this as the sarcasm of disappointed ambi-
tion ; but Foliot was a man of rigid morals, a devoted,
laborious, and learned clergyman ; and therefore, without
any ambition, he might fairly express his disgust at seeing
a mere man of the world, without one religious or profes-
sional recommendation, as Becket, at all events, appeared
to be, elevated to a post of the most sacred importance,
by worldly influence, and amidst the world's applause.
Foliot never appreciated properly the character of Becket,
and he retained his early and natural prejudices against
him to the last ; but by his contemporaries Foliot was
regarded as the holier man of the two.

The good taste of Becket, to say nothing of his religious
feelings, suggested an alteration in his establishment,
wrhen he removed to his episcopal palace ; but there
certainly did not take place that entire and sudden change
in his habits, which has been spoken of by some historians,
— and which even Lingard supposes to have occurred.
His dress and his retinue, as Mr Froude remarks, were
still remarkable for their magnificence, his table for its
almost fastidious delicacy, his companions for their rank
and intellectual accomplishments, his studies, for their
political and philosophical, rather than their religious
character ; and the only change discernible in his pursuits

M '2

138 BECKET.

and manner of living, was such as the change of his rank
and occupations would necessarily suggest to a refined
taste. Two years after his consecration, we find his firm
and tried friend, John of Salisbury, addressing to him the
following letter : a letter which shews that he considered
the archbishop to be very far from being a saiDt, though he
certainly regarded him as a religious man. It is indeed re-
markable how freely the companions and friends of Becket
addressed him when he became archbishop. They seem
to have looked upon him as one pre-eminently gifted,
advanced to a high station in the Church, anxious to do
his duty as a churchman, but often ignorant of what his
duty was, and requiring guidance in a position so little in
accordance with his previous habits. And he, conscious
of his deficiencies, receives with a meekness not natural to
him, and therefore the effect of divine grace, their friendly
but free-spoken admonitions. John of Salisbury addresses
the archbishop with the feelings of a paternal friend, who
regarded Becket as ready to take the right political line
with respect to the Church, but requiring direction as to
his personal conduct.

" My advice to your lordship," says this excellent man,
" and my earnest wish, and the sum of my entreaties, is
this ; that you commit yourself with your whole soul to
the Lord and to your prayers. It is written in the
Proverbs, ' the name of the Lord is a strong tower, the
righteous runneth into it, and is safe.' In the mean time,
to the best of your ability, put aside all other business ;
other things are important and necessary ; but what I
advise is still more important, because more necessary.
The laws and the canons may profit much, but not for us
under our present circumstances. Believe me, my lord,
' non haec ista sibi tempus spectacula poscunt.' These
things are better food for curiosity than for devotion.
Your lordship recollects how it is written : « Let the
priests, the ministers of the Lord, weep between the
porch and the altar; and let them say, Spare thy people,

BECKET. 139

O Lord.' ■ I communed with my own heart,' saith the
Prophet, ' and made diligent search' — ' in the day of my
trouble I sought the Lord;' thus teaching us that to
cleanse and discipline the spirit is the way to ward off the
lash of conscience, and to obtain for us the loving mercies
of God.

" Who ever rose with a feeling of contrition from a
study of the laws or even of the canons ? The exercises
of the schools, too, are more likely to puff us up with the
pride of science, than to kindle within us any feeling of
devotion. I would far rather see your lordship's thoughts
employed upon the psalms, or on the sermons of the
blessed Gregory, than intent upon this philosophy of the
schools. Far better were it to confer on serious subjects
with some spiritual person, and to warm your feelings by
his example, than to dwell upon and discuss the subtle
controversies of secular literature.

"God knows the sincerity with which I speak this —
your lordship will receive it as seems good to you. Yet
be assured that if you do these things, God will be on
your side, and you need not fear what flesh can do unto
you. He knows that in our present troubles, we have no
mortal arm to depend upon."

There were two parties at this time in the church of
England ; a deeply religious party, at the head of which
was Gilbert Foliot, bishop of London, and a party which
looked at the Church rather in its political than its
religious bearing, at the head of which Becket now placed
himself. In the latter party there were men of earnest
piety, but their opponents, by representing them as mere
men of the world, endeavoured to undermine their in-
fluence. We know that it was thus that Becket was
represented to the empress Matilda : she was made to
believe that, " from the time of his consecration, the
persons he had kept about him were men distinguished
rather for rank and talent than for religion ; and that in
disposing of his benefices, he looked rather to his own

140 BECKET.

service than God's ; promoting men of notoriously low
character."

He commenced his duties with his accustomed energy
of character. In the spring of 1163 he attended the
council of Tours, with several of his suffragans, and there
he was received with marked attention : fifteen cardinals,
with all the bishops who had arrived before him, went out
to meet the primate of the church of England ; and when
the council opened, he took his place with his suffragans,
at the right hand of the pope. At this time there was a
schism in the papacy, Alexander III being acknowledged
by the kings of England and France, and his rival Octa-
vian, under the name of Victor IV. being received by the
emperor. The council was convened, among other things,
to confirm the election of Alexander, who had, at his
election, the votes of seventeen cardinals, his rival having
only three votes.

On the archbishop's return to England, he began to
exert himself with great vigour, in defence of the rights
and privileges of the church of Canterbury ; for, besides
prosecuting at law several of the nobility and others, for
lands alienated from the see, during the civil disturbances
of the last reign, he claimed from the king himself the
castle of Rochester, and the honours of Hythe and Sand-
gate, which, he said, belonged peculiarly to the see of
Canterbury. He moreover summoned Roger de Clare, to
do him homage for the castle of Tunbridge, and sent a
similar citation to William de Ross. Many more applica-
tions of a like nature were made. The general answer
was, that they held under the king, and owned no other
lord. There is little doubt that the claims were just, but
the nobility were alarmed, and the king was irritated.

Although during the first twelve months after his
consecration, the archbishop appeared to enjoy his wonted
ascendancy over Henry, his enemies were many, and not
inactive in insinuating suspicions of his conduct and
designs into the irritable mind of the king. Becket, as

BECKET. 141

we have observed before, must have felt that although as
chancellor he might either restrain the king, or else, as a
friend, share in the odium, if, in spite of his attempt to
restrain him, Henry persevered in an act of injustice, he
could not act thus as archbishop : the archbishop would
have to oppose each act of injustice, and if the act was
persevered in, to let the world see that it was not con-
nived at by him. He now therefore resigned the chan-
cellorship. Henry remembered the warning which Becket
had given him, and understood the resignation to mean
that his interests might clash with those of the Church,
in which case he was not to depend on the arch-
bishop's support, and his angry feelings were excited.
When Becket, after his resignation, first met the king, on
his landing at Southampton, to quell the disturbances in
Wales, it was remarked, that although they embraced, the
eyes of the king were turned from him, and there was an
evident coldness and restraint in his manner. As a fair
act of retaliation, the king compelled the archbishop to re-
sign the rich archdeaconry of Canterbury, which Becket had
still retained, and which he certainly ought to have vacated
before. It is said that the archbishop retained the arch-
deaconry to prevent its being conferred on Geoffrey de
Biddel, an unworthy person ; but when he was claiming
all the rights of his see, the king was justified in prevent-
ing him from assuming more than was his due, and from
holding the rich archdeaconry in commendam.

The hearts of the two friends were thus in fact alienated
before that controversy commenced, which only terminated
in the death of Becket. That which brought them into
immediate collision, was a controversy relating to the
jurisdiction of the ecclesiastical courts.

The Church is an imperium in itself, governed under
its Divine Head, by officers of its own, independent of all
civil authorities. Such an institution must be viewed with
suspicion and jealousy by the government of any country
in which it is planted, an imperium in imperio. The
provincial governors, under the first emperors of Rome,

U3 BECKET.

were perplexed and annoyed at finding in every city
and province the Christian Church or the kingdom
of Christ existing, with regularly constituted officers,
holding concurrent jurisdiction with themselves, and con-
vening provincial councils, in which laws were enacted
without regard or reference to the civil authorities. The
fear of excommunication from this spiritual kingdom was
stronger than the fear of death. It is true that the people
were instructed never to resist by force the government of
the country, or the laws of the land : but then there was a
passive resistance, which was more provoking. If a law
pronounced by the Church or spiritual kingdom to be
sinful, such as the worship of idols, were enforced, the
people were instructed, not indeed to rise up in rebellion
against the iniquitous law, but meekly to submit to the
penalty for transgressing it, whether that were the spoiling
of goods or the loss of life ; and by this mode of resistance,
every persecution was perceived to add to the Church's
strength. Wherever there was a Roman governor there
was a bishop of the Church ; and if the commands of the
one and the injunctions of the other were not coincident,
the spiritual ruler, not the temporal, was obeyed, and the
latter found bonds, imprisonment and death, to have no
terrors. The imperial government, in consequence of
this state of things, gradually ceased to persecute, and
perceived the policy of allying itself as closely as possible
with this new kingdom upon earth, this fifth empire.
But the Church, strong in the affections of the common
people, was, in this alliance, the more powerful body of
the two, and the alliance was formed, not by bending the
canons of the Church to the laws of the heathen empire,
but by giving an ecclesiastical tone and character to the
imperial laws. In the laws of the Roman empire, the
power of the Church is perceived.

But as time has gone on, the position of the two socie-
ties has been materially changed. The Church has now
become the weaker body ; the state has, in every country,
and especially in England, obtained such power that it

BECKET. 143

has tyrannized over the Church, and to the laws of the land
the ecclesiastical canons have given place. As the time
of Anti-christ draws nearer we must expect the alienation
of the state from the Church to increase ; perhaps persecu-
tion will partially revive ; we know that when Anti-christ
himself comes, persecution will be carried on so effect-
ually, that the Church will be reduced to the lowest
condition, in point both of influence and members. In
the person of Anti-christ the state will triumph over the
Church.

When such is our view of the destiny, as well as the
history, of the Church, the struggle of Henry and Becket
assumes a peculiar degree of interest, since it was the
commencement of this straggle between the Church and
the state. The relative position of the two bodies, which
had so long acted together, and had almost become blended,
was now imperceptibly changed. The king and the arch-
bishop felt the change, but could not account for it. It
was a change in the minds of men. Men had become
discontented with the circumstances under which they
were placed. In yielding to his own impetuous temper,
Henry was, in fact, struggling to render the outward
circumstances of his kingdom accordant with the changing
tone of men's minds ; and in defending his own rights,
and the authority of the Church, Becket resisted innova-
tions, the end of which it was impossible to foresee.

With Henry we find that those proud statesmen, who feel
that the Church is the great impediment to the march of
liberalism, entirely sympathize. Becket has not been
able to command the sympathies of Englishmen, because,
while we can applaud his noble defence of the Church's
liberties against the aggressors of the state, we perceive
that he was, through ignorance of the real state of the case,
prepared to sacrifice those liberties to the court of Rome.
If he asserted his independence as archbishop of Canter-
bury against the king, we observe that he did not maintain
his independence as a primate of all England against the

144 BECKET.

pope, but in his own person brought our church under the
papal control. By the church of Rome he has been canon-
ized : we may express astonishment at rinding Thomas a
Becket regarded as a saint, a character in which he did
not appear in the eyes of his contemporary partizans and
admirers ; we may protest against his canonization for the
mere fact of his having been murdered after conducting a
struggle with the king, always with firmness and skill, but
not always in a saintly temper. It is indeed admitted by an
apologist for Thomas a Becket, the late Mr Froude, that
the ardour with which he devoted himself to his noble enter-
prise, was not altogether such as to consist with the very
highest frame of mind ; there was an eagerness about it ;
a fiery zeal ; a spirit of chivalry which excluded that calm
unruffled quiescence which is the prerogative of faith — that
entire indifference of consequences, which reason points
out as the proper frame of mind for those who fight under
the banner of the Invincible, who know that whether their
efforts succeed or fail, His will is alike done. But if we
may differ from the church of Rome in refusing to look
upon Thomas a Becket as a saint, the truth of history
obliges us to regard him as a great and good, though not a
faultless, character ; as one who resolutely maintained a
principle, and under difficult circumstances acted with
consistency and an humble trust in Divine Providence, and
who, as his troubles increased and his prospect of success
diminished, became a better and a holier man.

In the early part of the controversy, the consistency of
Becket was, indeed, less apparent than in his management
of it at a later period. Like many men of strong and
determined character, his temper was kind and affectionate,
and before he had confidence in himself, he was open to
friendly influences, and in one or two instances yielded on
points, where by yielding he offered an advantage to his
opponents.

When the Church, according to the statement made
above, was independent of the state, Christians were ex-

BECKET. 145

horted, on scriptural principles, to settle their differences
by submission to the decision of their bishops or of persons
delegated by them, and not to go to law with one another
before the profane courts. This was the case during the
three first centuries. When the empire, by becoming
Christian, allied itself with the Church, it was obliged as
the weaker body, to respect the laws of the Church; and
the decisions of the bishops in their respective dioceses
had the effect of law, though it was left to the option of
the people to have their causes tried either in the imperial
or in the ecclesiastical court. But as the influence of the
Church over the state increased, the privilege, if it were so
esteemed, as to choosing the court in which they should be
tried, was withdrawn from the clergy, and every cleric
was amenable only to the ecclesiastical tribunal. There
was a distinction drawn at first between ecclesiastical and
civil offences, but long before the time of which we are
speaking ; a clerical offender could only be cited before a
spiritual judge.

For a time this arrangement worked well : a person in-
jured by a cleric obtained redress, and the Church was not
scandalized by an exposure of the irregularities of those
who had been devoted to the offices of religion. But the
court Christian could not condemn any one to death,
while sentence of death was pronounced upon offenders
for comparatively trivial faults, by the civil judges. So
long as excommunication was considered worse than death,
the terrors of the spiritual court were equal to those of the
civil tribunal. But religion was beginning to grow cold,
and though excommunication subjected the penitent to
the most awful civil penalties, there was always a feeling
that he might be absolved, and people began to com-
plain that equal measure of punishment was not dealt
to the lay and the clerical offender. Flagellation, fines,
imprisonment and degradation, subjecting the offender for
the next offence to the sentence of the civil court, were
the modes of punishment resorted to in the •' Courts

146 BECKET

Christian :" and solitary confinement in the cell of a
convent, with inadequate food for life, was considered by
the ecclesiastical judges a severe sentence ; but such was
not the prevalent feeling among those who upheld the
royal courts.

By the two courts not only criminal but civil causes
were tried ; and the ecclesiastical courts being conducted
by men of superior education and learning, and being
guided by the fixed and invariable principles of the civil
and canon law, while the decisions in the king's courts
depended upon precedents and written traditions, it was
natural for men to draw into the ecclesiastical courts every
cause which could by legal ingenuity be connected with
the canons of the Church. So that between the two
judicatures a rivalry existed, in which the king and his
nobles felt a personal interest, as they obtained a principal"
share of the fees, fines and forfeitures, of the courts with
which they were connected.

There was then on both sides much professional
jealousy among the advocates of the respective courts;
the bishops and dignitaries of the establishment were
interested on the one side, the king and his nobles on the
other ; and though the people were on the side of the
Church, as in the Church only they found protection and
sympathy, yet the reference to the comparative impunity
of the clergy in criminal cases gave some strength to the
royal cause. In criminal cases indeed, as well as in civil,
the powers of the ecclesiastical court had extended to
every individual who had been admitted to the ton-
sure, (such persons as corresponded with our sextons,
parish clerks, &c.) whether he afterwards received holy
orders or not. But this extension of the ecclesiastical
courts was the cause of their weakness in this contro-
versy, for the number of offences was increased, and the
difference in the mode of punishment more marked and
offensive.

The king had another point on his side. Although the

BECKET. 147

spiritual courts in all the continental countries had a
separate jurisdiction, it had not been so among the Anglo-
Saxons : the limits of the two judicatures, the civil and
ecclesiastical, had been among them intermixed and un-
defined. The bishop was accustomed to sit with the
sheriff in the county court, and although even among
them, the bishop was the sole judge of the clergy in
criminal cases, and alone decided their differences, yet in
many ways his ecclesiastical became blended with his secu-
lar jurisdiction, and causes which had in other countries
been reserved to the spiritual judge, were decided in Eng-
land before a mixed tribunal. This state of things was
altered by William the Conqueror, who separated the two
jurisdictions, and established ecclesiastical courts in every
diocese, under the bishop and his archdeacons.

The reader will now see why Henry insisted so vehe-
mently on the return to the " customs" or " usages" of
the land, when making his attack on the ecclesiastical
courts. He was, in all things relating to his feudal rights,
prepared to follow the conqueror ; but he sought to over-
throw this part of his system, and under pretence of
referring to the old customs, to enlist on his side the
feelings of the Anglo-Saxons, although his real object was
the destruction of the present state of things, not the
restoration of the Church to its former position.

It will have been seen that the weak point in the case
of the spiritual courts, related to their ecclesiastical
jurisdiction, and on this point Henry determined to attack
them. There had been some gross cases of clerical delin-
quency, to which public attention was called, and by
which the king had been violently irritated, as he conceived
that sufficient punishment had not been awarded to the
offenders. He summoned a council of bishops at West-
minster, and required their consent that for the future,
whenever a cleric should be degraded for a public crime,
by the sentence of a spiritual judge, he should immedi-
ately be delivered into the custody of a lay officer, to be
punished by the sentence of a lay tribunal. The following

148 BECKET.

is the account of the proceedings of this council, given by
a contemporary historian :

" Concerning the origin of the misunderstanding be-
tween his lordship the archbishop of Canterbury and his
lordship the king —

"Henry, king of England, duke of Normandy and
Aquitain, and count of Anjou, came to London on the first
day of October, in the year of the Incarnate Word, 1163,
and with him Thomas, archbishop of Canterbury, Roger,
archbishop of York, and their lordships the other bishops
of England.

" This assembly met solely or principally to recognize
the claims of the metropolitan of Canterbury to the
primacy of all England. Nor was any opposition raised
except on the part of the archbishop of York.

" When this was settled, the king of England laid
before their lordships, the bishops, certain harsh proposals
for which no oue was prepared. In the first place he
complained of iniquitous conduct on the part of the arch-
deacons, who, as he said, made a profit of other men's
misconduct, by exacting, in lieu of the accustomed penance,
sums of money, which they appropriated to their own use,
and declared his pleasure that for the future no arch-
deacon should cite any offender, however notorious, without
the consent of the civil magistrate. Then, proceeding to
another point, he stated his anxiety to devise some means
for the better preservation of peace and good order in his
kingdom, and his regret at hearing instances of disorderly
conduct among the clergy, several of whom were known to
have been guilty of theft, rapine, and even murder.

" ' It is my request, therefore,' said he, * that you, my
lord of Canterbury, and your brother bishops, in cases
like these, should degrade the criminal from his orders,
and then deliver him up to my courts of justice for cor-
poral punishment. It is also my will and request that on
these occasions you should allow the presence of a crown
officer, to prevent the escape of the criminal after his
degradation.' "

BECKET 149

" His lordship of Canterbury wished to defer his answer
till the following day ; but when this was denied, he
retired with the other bishops, and the following discussion
ensued :

" The bishops mentioned that the world must obey the
world's laws, — that degraded clergymen (clerics) must be
given up to the civil magistrate, and suffer corporal
punishment as well as spiritual ; nor could they see the
injustice of thus doubly punishing persons who, as they
enjoyed higher privileges than other men, when they
abused these were doubly guilty. Nor was this only the
world's law : the infliction of corporal punishment in such
cases was sanctioned by Scripture itself, which sentenced
offending Levites to mutilation or even death.

" On the other hand, his lordship of Canterbury asserted
that to visit a single offence with double punishment was
alike unjust and uncanonical ; — that Scripture did not
afford a precedent for it ; and that since the sentence
pronounced in the first instance by the Church must either
be just or unjust, unless the bishops would condemn
themselves by calling it unjust, they could not admit an
additional sentence to be just.

" 'Moreover,' he added, 'we must be on our guard
against lending ourselves to any designs upon the liberty
of the Church ; for which, according to the example of our
great High Priest, we are bound by our office to contend
even unto death. But ye have not yet resisted unto
death.'

" The bishops answered, that by sacrificing the liberty
of the Church they in no way compromised the Church
itself. 'Indeed,' said they, ' such a course would rather
tend to strengthen it. An obstinate resistance on our
part can end in nothing but our own ruin : whereas, by
giving way to the king in this point we may retain our
inheritance in God's sanctuary, and repose in the peace-
able possession of our churches. We are placed in diffi-
cult circumstances, and the temper of the times requires
of us large concessions.'

8 N

150 BECKET.

" On this his lordship of Canterbury, being very zealous
for the house of God, spoke as follows :

" 'I see, my lords, that you disguise to yourselves your
cowardice under the name of patience, and that on this
pretext of concession the spouse of Christ is to be given
up to slavery. And who hath bewitched you, ye insen-
sate prelates? Why would ye mask palpable iniquity
under this virtuous name, concession ? Why do ye call
that concession, which is, in fact, abandonment of the
church of Christ ? Words, my lords, should be the signs
of things, not their disguises.

" ' But,' say your lordships, ' we must make concessions
to the temper of the times.' Granted; but not vicious
concessions to vicious temper.

" ' My lords, the cause of God is not so ill supported,
as to require your fall that it may stand. Nor is the Most
High at a loss for means to uphold his Church, though
unaided by the truckling policy of its governors. Truly
one would suppose that your lordships compassionated
our Lord Christ, as though he were of himself powerless
to defend His spouse, and stood in need of your ingenious
devices.

" ' Know, my lords, that this temper of the times is the
very thing which constitutes your trial. When is it, I
pray you, that a bishop is called on to expose himself to
danger? Think ye that it is in tranquil times, or in dis-
turbed ? Your lordships will surely blush to answer ' in
tranquil times.' Remember, therefore, that when the
Church is troubled, then it is that the shepherd of the
Church must expose himself. Think not, that if the
bishops of old times were called on to found the church
of Christ on their blood, we in these times are less called
on to shed ours in its defence.

" ' I, for my part, (God is my witness,) do not dare to
recede from that form of government which has been
handed down to us from those holy fathers.'

" These words of the archbishop were soon carried to
the kings ears ; and straightway you might see all the

BECKET. 151

pillars of the Church to tremble as reeds before the wind ;
nor did anything support them against the terrors with
which they were threatened except the firmness of his
lordship of Canterbury.

" When the king found that in this instance his will
was ineffectual, he immediately took different ground, and
merely put to them the question, whether it was their
intention to conform unreservedly to the usages of his
kingdom ? His lordship of Canterbury answered advi-
sedly, that he would conform to them without reserve as
far as they consisted with the privileges of his order. The
same question was then put to each singly, and the same
answer returned by all. The king insisted that they
should pledge themselves absolutely, without any excep-
tion in favour of their order. But his lordship of Canter-
bury refused to give further pledges, without authority
from the vicar of Christ.

" The king, therefore, was greatly troubled, and all
Jerusalem with him ; and, going forth in the vehemence
of his spirit, he departed at once from London, without
arranging any business or closing any account.

"On this you might perceive a murmuring among the
laity, — confusion among the clergy. The bishops, in
terror, followed after the king, fearing that before they
reached him they should hear of a confiscation of all their
goods, and soon after made an underhand arrangement
with him, in which all mention was dropped both of God
and their order. Indeed, so readily did they yield to his
request, that their consent seemed to have been given
even before it was asked, and those who had most influ-
ence seemed most willing to exert it against the Church.

"In the meantime the archbishop of Canterbury sat
apart by himself, looking to the right and to the left, but
there was no man that would know him. He sought
comfort among his brethren, but they had gone astray
backwards, and now they walked not with him. At length,
seeing the prosperity of the unrighteous, and the danger
that hung over himself, « One thing,' said he, ' I have

152 BECKET.

spoken, namely, that I will not conform to the usages of
this world where they interfere with the privileges of my
divine order. For this I have incurred the displeasure of
the king — for this I have been deserted by my brethren,
and have offended the whole world. But let the world
say yea or nay, never will I so covenant with mortal man
as to forget my covenant with God and my order. God
willing, be it far from me, that either the fear or love of
man should make me indifferent to God. If an angel
from heaven come to me and counsel me so, let him be
accursed.' "

The king soon perceived that it would be the part of
sound policy to form a party among the bishops, and to
create a misunderstanding between them and the primate.
He encouraged, therefore, the archbishop of York to insist
on bearing his crosier in the province of Canterbury, and
the bishop of London to refuse to profess canonical sub-
jection. Clarenbald, abbot elect of St Augustine's, Can-
terbury, had also withdrawn his monastery from the
archiepiscopal jurisdiction, and when Becket insisted on
his rights, these several parties appealed to the pope, and
their respective claims were supported at Sens, where the
pope then resided, with the king's money and influence.
The cardinals were gained over ; the pope was frightened :.
gloomy accounts arrived from John of Salisbury, from the
bishop of Poictiers, and from Becket's private messengers.
In short, the position of our church was at this time any
thing but satisfactory; nor even when we admit the
difficulties by which we are at present surrounded, by the
opposition of the state to all true religion, can we think
that our church was in better circumstances during the
middle ages. We may here, also, remark, as we have
done in former articles, how private interests and human
passions were permitted to interfere, so as to bring the
church of England more and more under the dominion of
the pope. Henry, though hating the papal court, would
submit to any concession, not interfering with his imme-
diate objects, to carry a point, and Becket and his friends,

BECKET. 153

though free in their remarks on the venality, selfishness,
and vrant of principle in the pope and his cardinals,
conceded principles which entirely subverted the indepen-
dence of the church of England.

Becket had early notice that he ought not to expect
support from the court of Rome, on which he vainly, and
as archbishop of Canterbury, improperly relied. " God,"
says the bishop of Poictiers, in a letter addressed to the
archbishop, " who has given you courage to begin, will
also give you constancy to persevere, if not with success,
yet with a consummation still more devoutly to be wished.
But as to human assistance, you will look in vain to the
court of Rome, for any support against the king." After
recounting the difficulties to which Becket was exposed,
the good bishop proceeds, " wherefore, my beloved father
and lord, in all that you resolve upon, you must look
solely to the will of God, and to the interests of that
church over which God has appointed you. This must be
your only consolation, your only hope." Becket's private
messenger, one Magister Henricus, writes to him thus :

" At Soissons, the king of France received myself and
my charge with evident pleasure, and at once despatched
the prior of St Mard of Soissons with letters to the pope.
The prior is a man of great weight and discretion, and
was charged with other matters respecting your lordship,
more important than the kiDg could trust his secretary to
write.

" On taking my leave, his majesty took my hand in his
own, and pledged himself, on the word of a king, that if
chance ever brought your lordship to his dominions, he
would receive you neither as a bishop nor an archbishop,
but as a brother sovereign. The count of Soissons too
assured me most solemnly, that he would consign to your
lordship's use the whole revenues of his earldom, and that
if I would return from Sens his way, he would send you a
letter to that effect.

" Having finished my business at Soissons I hastened
to court, in the prior s company, through the estates of

154 BECKET.

count Henry. The way was shortest, and my companion
was a guarantee for my safety. Two days before I had
access to the pope's presence, the prior delivered the king's
letters, and the commission with which he had been
entrusted by word of mouth.

" At length I was admitted. His holiness, on receiving
me, sighed deeply, and betrayed other signs of dejection.
He had already heard all that took place in the council, —
the persecution of the Church, your lordship's firmness,
which of the bishops stood by you, how he went out from
among you who was not of you, the sentence passed upon
the cleric ; indeed, every thing that had been done most
secretly was known, before my arrival, to the whole court,
and even talked of in the streets. A secret interview was
then granted to me, in which I laid before his holiness
the several heads of our memorial. He, on his part,
praised G od without ceasing for vouchsafing to his Church
such a shepherd. Indeed, the whole court loudly extols
in your lordship that courage in which itself is so
lamentably deficient. As for themselves, they are lost in
imbecility, and fear God less than men. They have just
heard of the capture of Radicofani, and in it of the pope's
uncle and nephews. Other castles too, belonging to the
fathers of certain cardinals, have surrendered to the
Germans. Besides this, John de Cumin has now been a
long time at the emperor's court, and count Henry absents
himself from the pope's presence, and no messenger has
of late arrived from the king of England, and other con-
curring events have so terrified them that there is no
prince whom they would now dare to offend, and least of
all the king of England ; nor would they, if they could,
raise a hand in defence of the Church which is now in
danger in all parts of the world. But of this enough.

" What has been the success of your lordship's peti-
tions you will doubtless hear from the prior, and from
the bishop of Poictiers, who, by the grace of God,
arrived here the day before myself, and has laboured
in your lordship's cause with most friendly zeal. His

BECKET. 155

holiness declines altogether to offend the king, and has
written to the archbishop of York in a tone rather horta-
tory than commanding. However, he will send over a
brother of the temple to mediate between your lordships
on the subject of the cross, and to settle any dispute that
may arise in the interim. In the mean time the arch-
bishop of York is not to carry the cross in your diocese ;
this we obtained by dint of perseverance. To the bishop
of London he has written in the same strain ; but the
only effect of the letter will be to make his pride insolent.
Indeed the pope feels this, and sends your lordship a copy
of the letter, that you may judge for yourself whether to
forward or retain it. As to the profession, his lordship of
Poictiers has debated it with the pope repeatedly, and we
have at last obtained a promise that if, on being demanded,
it is formally refused, then his holiness will extort if.
The bishop will explain this in his second letter: the
subscription will distinguish the second from the first.
In the matter of St Augustine's we can obtain nothing.
The pope asserts that he has himself seen grants of his
predecessors, which he cannot revoke, securing the privi-
leges now claimed by the convent.

" Lastly, on our requesting that his holiness would send
your lordship a summons to appear before him, he an-
swered with much apparent distress, ' God forbid ! rather
may I end my days than see him leave England on such
terms, and bereave his church at such a crisis.'

" May God preserve your lordship in all your ways.
At Clairvaux, Cisteaux, and Pontigni, by the pope's
request, prayer is made daily for yourself and your church.
May my lord inform me shortly how he fare, that my
spirit may be consoled in the day of its visitation."

In a similar strain wrote John of Salisbury, the arch-
bishop's constant friend : having informed him of what
was taking place at Paris, and then with reference to his
intended journey to Sens, the papal residence, he says :

"Yet what to do when I am there I scarcely see.
Many things make against you and few for you. Great

156 BECKET.

men will be arriving there — profuse in their presents,
against which Rome never was proof — backed not only by
their own power, but by that of a king, whom no one in
the court dares offend. Besides, they are protected by
grants from the church of Rome, which, in a cause like
this, neither regards bishop nor friend. In this very
cause, his holiness has from the first opposed us — and
ceases not to find fault with what was done for us by
Adrian, that friend of the church of Canterbury, whose
mother still lives among you, penancing herself with cold
and hunger.

" We then, humble and poor, and with no grants to
protect us, what shall we have but words to offer to these
Italians ? But they have well studied the lesson of their
poet, ' not to pay a price for promises."

" Your lordship writes, that, as a last step, if all other
resources fail us, I am to promise 200 marks. But our
adversaries, rather than lose their object, would pay down
300 or 400.

1 Nee si muneribus certes, concedet Iolas.'

"And, truly, I will answer for the Italians, that in
consideration of the love they bear his majesty, and of
their respect for his messengers, they will consent rather
to receive a great sum than to expect a small one.

" And yet in some respects they side with your lordship,
because you are troubled for the liberty of the Church ;
though here too the king's apologists and your lordship's
rivals endeavour to undermine your cause, attributing your
conduct rather to rashness than to spirit; and to back
their insinuations, they hold out hopes to the pope (venas
hujus susurri jam audiit auris mea) that he will be
invited to England, and that the coronation of the king's
son is delayed till the apostolical hand can consecrate him
— and your lordship must know the Italians have no
objection. There are some who already insult us with the
threat that his holiness will take possession of the church
of. Canterbury, and remove your lordship's candlestick.

BECKET. 157

However, I do not believe that as yet such a thought has
been conceived by his holiness, for I hear that he is really
grateful for your constancy.

" Yet one thing I am sure of, that when Lisieux is
come, there is nothing which he will hesitate to assert.
I know him well, and have tasted his wiles. As to the
abbot, who can doubt about him ?

11 1 have just learned from the bishop of Poictiers, that
he can obtain nothing for you against the abbot of St
Augustine's,' though he has laboured hard for it. I will
go, however, God willing, since your lordship commands
it, and will try what I can effect. If I fail, let it not be
imputed to me ; for as the poet has said —

' Ncm est in medico semper relevetur ut reger,
Interdum docta plus valet arte malum.' "

In the mean time, the pope had written Becket a
common-place letter, dated Sens, Oct. 26, 1163, in which
there is nothing worth notice except the concluding
advice, "that Becket should at once return to his diocese,
dismiss all his retinue except such as were absolutely
necessary, and then move rapidly from place to place."

He also wrote another letter to Gilbert, dated Sens,
November 9th; just such as Becket's messenger des-
cribes it — full of flattering expressions and gentle ad-
monitions.

When we add to all this, that the abbot of Eleemosyna
was, as he represented, sent to England from the pope to
press on Becket the inexpediency of persisting in a fruit-
less opposition, we cannot be surprised at hearing that the
archbishop was persuaded to go to the king at Woodstock,
where he made promise of obedience to the customs with-
out the obnoxious clause. By the king, of course, the
humbled primate was graciously received, and a council
was summoned to meet at Clarendon, to discuss the
differences between Church and state.

The council met at Clarendon on the 5th of January,
1164. The king gave proof of his intention to humble

VOL. II. o

158 BECKET.

the archbishop yet further, by appointing John of Oxford,
a man most obnoxious to the archbishop, to preside, who,
by his angry manner and threatening tone, chafed the
temper of Becket, and excited his suspicions. Henry
took his seat and called upon the bishops to fulfil their
promise. The primate was now roused and expressed a
design of receding from his engagement. At this Henry's
rage was extreme ; in the eyes of the council it bore the
appearance of phrenzy. He menaced banishment and
death. Those bishops who had not yet forsaken the
primate crowded around him and implored him to relent,
as his person, the safety of the clergy, and their own lives,
were at stake ; the door of the next apartment was thrown
open, and discovered a body of knights with their gar-
ments tucked up and their swords drawn Robert, earl
of Leicester, and Reginald, earl of Cornwall, came to him
and told him that the king had commanded them to use
force if he did not yield to the royal will ; " though the
event," they said, will, we know, " bring infamy on him
and on ourselves." Sacrificing his own judgment to their
entreaties, the primate relented ; he signified that he
would obey the king's will, and promised, " on the word of
truth, that he would observe the ancient customs of the
realm." The bishops made the same solemn promise.
But then came the question, What are the customs ? and
strange to say, they were unknown. It was so preposterous
to call upon the bishops to swear to observe customs, the
very nature of which was unknown, that a committee was
formed to draw them up, and at the suggestion of the
archbishop the court adjourned till the following day. The
meeting was resumed the next morning, and a list of
customs was prepared. They are now styled the con-
constitutions of Clarendon ; they are sixteen in number ;
it will not be necessary to state them at length, but the
following clauses are those which were most in controversy,
and which were afterwards selected by Becket for special
condemnation

BECKET. 159

1. " That no bishop may excommunicate any tenant of
the crown without the king's license.

2. " That no bishop may imprison any inhabitant of his
diocese for perjury, or breach of faith.

3. " That clerics shall be subjected to lay tribunals.

4. " That laics, whether the king or others, may inter-
fere in questions concerning tithes or presentations to
benefices.

5. "That appeals, for whatever causes, to the see of
Borne, shall not be lawful, except with permission from
the king, or his officers.

6. " That no archbishop, nor bishop, nor any other
dignitary, may attend a summons from the pope, without
the king's license."

The primate retired from this council an humbled and
defeated man. He does not appear to have recovered his
resolution immediately. On the first of March the pope
certainly had under his consideration a request from the
English clergy, to which Becket was a party, soliciting his
assent to the acts of Clarendon. When Henry's ambas-
sadors arrived at Sens to back this request, they found
that the pope was for once prepared to act with resolution.
Though on all former occasions he was afraid to support
the archbishop against the king, yet he was now unwilling
to take a decided part with the latter. Like other weak
men, the pope seems to have determined on steering a
middle course between the contending parties ; or rather
on observing a strict neutrality, and allowing events to
shape their course for themselves. But Becket had now
time and opportunity to discover that if he persevered in
his opposition to the king, he would not be without sup-
port : that it was only through fear and policy that the
pope and cardinals had refrained from declaring them-
selves in his favour. He felt himself degraded : and his
conscience reproached him for having acted contrary to
his own judgment, in deference to the wishes of others.
There were not wanting many among his friends to pity,
if not to reproach him, for his weakness. On the first of

160 BECKET.

April, it was known at Sens that he had suspended him-
self from all his clerical functions ; and on that day
Alexander wrote to him a letter of consolation and remon-
strance, assuring him that his fall had been a pardonable
one, and his penance unnecessarily severe. Soon after,
the pope sent the archbishop of Rouen to endeavour to
effect a reconciliation between the king and Becket. But
Henry would listen to no terms, unless the constitutions
of Clarendon were confirmed by a papal bull. This con-
dition being refused, Henry made a request that Roger,
archbishop of York, should be made the pope's legate for
all England: a direct attack upon the jurisdiction of
Becket, to which Alexander refused to lend himself;
though he showed his readiness to bend to circumstances
almost as much as the enemies of the Church could
desire, by offering to make the king himself his legate : an
offer which was rejected, because it was clogged with a
proviso that his highness should do nothing to the pre-
judice of the archbishop of Canterbury; but the offer
shews how ready the popes have been to sacrifice the
principles of the Church to notions of expediency. Pressed
beyond measure by the angry temper of the king; be-
friended with a cold and vacillating support from the
pope ; and deserted, day by day, by his former friends,
who preferred the favour of the court to the service of an
obnoxious prelate, Becket sought peace and safety in a
retreat to France ; but even the crew of the vessel in
which he sailed were not too obscure to trim their sails to
the prevailing breeze of court favour ; and they earned
the thanks of the king, by returning with the archbishop
before they had reached the opposite shore.

Henceforth the controversy assumes a new shape : the
ruin of one man occupied the mind of the powerful
sovereign ; and Becket regarded himself as representing
the independence of the Church, and as called upon to
exert all the energies of his mind in that cause.

The king's conduct towards Becket was as mean as it
was vindictive. He ceased from his attack upon the

BECKET. 161

Church to render more certain his attack upon the arch-
bishop. In the October of 1164 the primate was cited to
a great council in the town of Northampton, at which
John of Oxford presided, and the king was prepared to
prosecute his enemy, having decreed beforehand the
punishment of bodily mutilation to any who should not
bring in Becket as guilty of the charges he was about to
prefer. The king proceeded from small to the greater
charges, as by a climax. The nobles and prelates being
seated, he charged the archbishop with not having done
justice in his court of Canterbury, to John, the mareschal
of his exchequer, and with not appearing in the king's
court, when cited on the appeal of the said servant of the
crown. The archbishop satisfactorily explained the case,
and declared that his non-appearance when cited was no
act of contempt, but occasioned by illness, and that two of
his knights had waited on the court with his apology. Be-
gardless of every plea, the king swore with an intemperate
fury, that judgment should pass and justice be done
him. The obsequious court yielded to the royal will, and
condemned Becket as guilty of contumacy, for having
disobeyed his liege lord, to whom he had sworn fealty
and the observance of his earthly honour, and they decreed
all his goods and chattels to be at the " mercy of the
king :" a legal expression, to denote the forfeiture of all
personal property, unless the king chose to accept a
smaller fine. Custom had in each county fixed the
amount of this fine : the customary fine in Kent was forty
shillings, but Becket was made to commute the penalty
for five hundred pounds, equal to more than seven thou-
sand pounds of our money. The readiness with which
Becket promised to pay the money and found sureties, as
if not condescending to dispute with his sovereign about
money, seems only to have exasperated the king. The
next morning the king required him to refund three
hundred pounds, which he had received as warden of
Eye and Berkhampstead : " more than that sum," an-

o3

162 BECKET.

swered the primate, " I expended on these castles and on
the royal castle at London, as the repairs themselves do
shew. But money shall be no ground oi quarrel between
me and my sovereign. I will pay the sum." And he
immediately gave security, thus in fact trampling over the
royal spite. Another demand was made, in the hope of
bringing the quarrel to bear on mere money transactions,
of five hundred pounds, received by the chancellor before
the walls of Toulouse. The archbishop asserted that the
money was given, not lent. But as Henry maintained
that it was a loan, the court decreed that repayment
should be made, on the principle, that the word of the
sovereign was preferable to the word of a subject ; the
king's English subjects not having arrived at the conclusion
of his foreign allies, that he was the greatest " liar ' in
Christendom. Thomas a Becket shewed by his manner
that he was not to be crushed or even irritated by such
paltry proceedings, but on the third day he did stand
aghast at hearing the king require an account of all the
receipts from the vacant abbeys and bishoprics which had
come into his hands during his chancellorship : and it
was sufficiently apparent that Henry would respect neither
law nor equity in his proceedings, when he estimated the
balance due to the crown at the enormous sum of forty- four
thousand marks. The archbishop declared that he was
not bound to answer, for that at his consecration both
prince Henry and the earl of Leicester, the justiciary, had
publicly released him from all similar claims. It matters
little whether Becket could have substantiated this asser-
tion, for his recent elevation to the see of Canterbury, with
the omission to place any such debts on record until it
become convenient to do so in order that the prelate, since
become obnoxious, might be crushed by their weight, was
a sufficient moral release. He asked for leisure to con-
sult with his fellow bishops. The request was complied
with, and he withdrew with the bishops into a separate
chamber.

BECKET. 163

It was evident that the king's intention in bringing the
last charge against the archbishop was to force him to a
resignation of his see. Indeed, so intricate and extensive
must have been the accounts he demanded, and so uncer-
tain the claim, that the reimbursement of any sum might
have been required. The revenues of the see of Canter-
bury were not equal to the discharge, and no sureties could
be found. The bishops, with the exception of Henry of
Winchester, advised a resignation. Besides the bishop of
Winchester, the bishops of London, Lincoln, Chichester,
and Exeter, addressed the archbishop ; the bishop of Wor-
cester excited a smile in the assembly, when, with pompous
self-complacency he said, " I wish to give no opinion ;
because should I say that the cure of souls ought to be
resigned when the prince wills it or threatens, I should
speak against my own conscience, and belie my heart. If
1 say the king should be opposed, there are those present
who are devoted to him who will make their report. I
shall be ranked in future with his enemies and be condem-
ned. Therefore I waive all decision, and give no advice."
The bishop of Worcester, though a weak and ignorant man,
was nevertheless not wanting in worldly cunning, and
Becket knew that he uttered what was felt by many around
him, though they possessed the prudence, which the bishop
of Worcester wanted, to conceal their feelings. He there-
fore asked for a respite till the morrow, as those to whom
his cause was best known were not with him, and his
request was granted.

The following day was Sunday, and the archbishop find-
ing that the knights and others who till now had attended
his person, came not near him, apprehensive of the fate
which threatened him, ordered the poor of the neighbour-
hood to be collected and seated at his table. " By these,"
he said " I shall obtain an easier victory, than by those
who have shamefully deserted me in the hour of danger."
But though nothing could intimidate him, the anxiety of
his mind was proved by an indisposition which confined
him to his chamber on the Monday. His spirit, however,

i 04 BECKET.

was roused by an intimation he received that if he appeared
in court his destruction or imprisonment was resolved
upon. On the Tuesday he rebuked the prelates who had
again exhorted him to submit without reserve to the king's
pleasure, and then proceeded to St Stephen's church,
where he solemnized the Holy Eucharist, which he felt to
be the most effectual support in the difficulties by which
he was surrounded : nor did he neglect the especial com-
fort of the service for the commemmoration of the proto-
martyr in which the passage occurs, "The princes sat and
spoke against me."

He had now determined to bring back the controversy
to its original state, a dispute between the king and the
Church, and therefore he attended the council arrayed in
his pontifical robes, and bearing in his hand the archi-
episcopal cross, thereby signifying that it was not in his
character as a subject, but in that of a prince of the
Church, that he appeared before the council. As the
king's object was to crush a subject, he was exasperated
beyond bounds when he heard that Becket was thus
approaching, and he retired with the barons into a neigh-
bouring chamber, where they were soon after joined by
the bishops. The king knew not how to proceed till some
of the bishops proposed to cite their primate before the
pope, and procure his deposition. The advice pleased
the king, and " the arrogant and frothy" bishop of Chi-
chester was commissioned to address the archbishop in
the name of his brethren : " You were our primate," said
he, " but by opposing the royal customs, you have broken
your oath of fealty to the king; a perjured archbishop
has no right to our obedience. From you, then, we
appeal to the pope, and summon you to answer us before
him." " I hear you," was the archbishop's reply.

His proud spirit would not condescend to notice the
attack further, but he was roused to speech, when the
bishops, having gone over to the opposite seats, the door
of the inner room opened, and the barons, with a great
crowd, headed by the earls of Leicester and Cornwall,

BECKET. 165

approached the primate, who was addressed by the earl of
Leicester : " The king orders that you appear before him
to answer to his charges, as you promised, or else hear
your sentence." "My sentence!" cried the primate,
rising from his seat : " Yes, sir earl, but do you hear
first ; — You well know, my son, with what friendship and
with what fidelity I served my lord the king. On that
account, it was his pleasure that I should be promoted to
the archiepiscopal see of Canterbury, God knows, against
my own will. For I knew my own incapacity ; and I
acquiesced, not so much for the love of God, as for his
love. This is sufficiently evident, since God to day
withdraws Himself and the king from me. At my elec-
tion, in the presence of prince Henry, who had received
orders from his royal father, it was asked, in what condi-
tion I was given to the Church ? when answer was made ;
free and discharged from every bond of the court. But if
free, I cannot now be bound to answer to those things,
from which I was then discharged ; nor will I." " Tins,"
observed the earl, " is different from what, the other day,
was reported to the king." The primate proceeded : " Still
listen, my son. As much as the soul is superior to the
body, by so much it is your duty to obey God and me,
rather than an earthly monarch. Neither law, nor reason
permits, that a child judge or condemn his parent.
Wherefore, I decline the tribunal of the king and his
barons, submitting myself, under God, to the judgment of
our lord the pope, to whom, in the presence of you all, I
now appeal. The church of Canterbury, my order and
dignity, with all that pertains to them, I commit to God
and the protection of the holy see. And you, my
brethren and fellow-bishops, who have preferred the
obedience of man to that of God, I cite you to the pre-
sence of our lord the pope. Thus guarded by the power
of the Catholic Church and the apostolic see, I retire
hence."

The solemn address was taken to the king ; and the
primate turned round to leave the hall. As he passed

166 BECKET

through the crowd he was insulted ; and some called out,
that he retired like a perjured traitor. Looking sternly
at the revilers, he said : " Did the sacredness of my
character permit it, I would by arms defend myself
against that charge of perjury and treason." The outer
gate was locked ; but one of his attendants perceived the
keys on the wall, and opening the door, they went out ;
and amidst the acclamations of the clergy and people,
congratulating him on his delivery, and a crowd of beggars,
he reached the convent where he lodged. In the evening,
the bishops of Worcester, Hereford, and Rochester, who
were attached to the primate, waited on the king, in his
name, requesting that he might be permitted to quit the
realm. " To-morrow, replied Henry, " I will lay his
request before the council." But at night-fall, two noble-
men, whose solemn asseverations could not be doubted,
informed the archbishop, that certain persons of high
rank had conspired against his life, who were mutually
pledged to perpetrate their design. This, it seems, deter-
mined him to attempt an immediate escape ; wherefore,
ordering a couch to be prepared in the church, as if he
meant to take sanctuary there, before midnight, attended
by two monks and a servant, he left the convent, and soon
afterwards the walls of Northampton, passing northward
through a gate which was left unguarded. It was Tues-
day, the 16th of October.

After fifteen days of peril and adventures, he landed at
Gravelines, in Flanders. His first visit was paid to the
king of France, who received him with marks of venera-
tion ; his next to pope Alexander, who kept his court in
the city of Sens.

To the pope, all parties in our Church, king, prelates,
and primate, had appealed ; all were doomed to discover,
that by thus going into Egypt for help, they trusted only
to a broken reed : but the damage which the church of
England received from such proceedings, was such as
rendered the reformation of the 16th century a matter
of necessity.

BECKET. 167

Before the arrival of the archbishop at Sens, the king's
ambassadors had appeared at the court of Alexander. The
cardinals were aware how much it was their interest not
to irritate so powerful and so rich a prince as Henry, and
they saw the difficulties in which, by shewing favor to the
primate, they would soon be involved. Already had part
of the rich gifts which the ambassadors bore, been spread
before them. The pope, though less inconsistent than the
cardinals, still acted a disgraceful part in the transaction.
As Mr Froude observes, " he neither insisted, as Becket
wished, on trying the cause in his own presence, and
summoning all parties from England ; nor, on the other
hand, consented to place Becket again at the disposal of
his enemies by ordering him to return to his see, and
by sending legates to decide the cause in Henry's
dominions."

At this refusal Henry took deep offence. As a first
step, he banished and proscribed all Becket's friends and
relations with their whole families — sparing neither sex
nor age — confiscating all their goods — and leaving them
to find subsistence as they could in the charity of the
continent. The list of proscriptions being swelled with
four hundred names, the misery which ensued needs
no description ; yet such was the popularity of Becket's
cause, that this secured an asylum for the greater number
of the exiles. Monasteries were cheerfully opened to the
men, nunneries to the women; many nobles offered large
contributions for their support — especially the king of
France, and Matilda, queen of Sicily. This, however,
could not last long — charity was fatigued, and generosity
blunted, in time ; and before the six years of Becket's
exile were concluded, hunger and cold had done its
work.

The arrival of Becket at Sens excited feelings of sym-
pathy and compasssion, especially when, through ignor-
ance of what became the primate of an independent
Church, as high in office and dignity as the bishop of
Rome, Becket offered to surrender his bishopric into the

168 BECKET.

hands of the latter prelate : some among the cardinals
regarded this as a ready way to decide the dispute, and
proposed that the resignation should be accepted ; but
Alexander, who was not void of generous feelings, refused
to abandon a prelate who had sacrificed the friendship of
a king for the good, as he supposed, of the Church, but
having previously condemned the ten constitutions of
Clarendon, recommended him to the care of the abbot of
Pontigny, and exhorted him to bear with resignation the
hardships of exile.

His residence at Pontigny was without doubt serviceable
to Becket's soul. He, who had been hitherto immersed
in politics or controversy, had now time for more profitable
studies. By his contemporaries he was not regarded as a
saint, — not even by those of his contemporaries who were
most enthusiastically devoted to his service. John of
Salisbury gives him the advice which we might expect
from a man of learning and piety.

"My advice then to your lordship, and my earnest wish,
and the sum of my entreaties is this, that you will commit
yourself with your whole soul to the Lord, and to your
prayers. It is written in the proverbs, ' The name of the
Lord is a strong tower, the righteous runneth unto it and
is safe. — xviii. 10. In the mean time, to the best of your
ability, put aside all other business : other things are indeed
important and necessary ; but what I advise is still more
important, because more necessary. The laws and the
canons may profit much, but not for us under our present
circumstances.

" Believe me, my lord,

' Non heec ista sibi temp us spectacula poscit.'
These tilings are better food for curiosity than for devotion.
Your lordship recollects how it is written, that, in the sor-
rows of the people, ' Let the priests, the ministers of the
Lord, weep between the porch and the altar ; and let them
say, Spare thy people, 0 Lord!1 ' I communed with my
own heart,' saith the .prophet, ' and my spirit made dili-
gent search.' 'In the day of my trouble I sought the

BECKET. 169

Lord.' Thus teaching us that to cleanse and discipline
our spirit is the way to ward off the lash of conscience, and
to obtain for us the loving mercies of God. Who ever
arose with a feeling of contrition from the study either of
the laws or even of the canons ? The exercises of the
schools, too, are more likely to puff us up with the pride
of science, than to kindle within us any feeling of devotion.
I would far rather see your lordship's thoughts employ-
ed upon the psalms, or on the sermons of the Blessed
Gregory, than intent upon this philosophy of the schools.
Far better were it to confer on serious subjects with some
spiritual person, and to warm your feelings by his exam-
ple, than to dwell upon and discuss the subtle controver-
sies of secular literature. God knows the sincerity with
which I speak this — your lordship will receive it as seems
good to you. Yet be assured that if you do these things
God will be on your side, and you need not fear what flesh
can do unto you. He knows that in our present troubles
we have no mortal arm to lean upon."

It was long before Thomas a Becket could adapt him-
self to his altered fortunes : we find his friend John of
Poictiers remonstrating with him on the unnecessary and
impolitic style of his living, and urging on him, at the same
time, the necessity of husbanding his resources, and of
conforming to the habits of the religious establishment in
which he was at that time living as an exile. " It will be
necessary," he says, " as far as one can judge from the
present aspect of your affairs, to husband your resources
in every possible way : to let your enemies see that you
are prepared for any sufferings to which your exile may
reduce you. For this reason I have often warned your
discretion, and must still earnestly press you to get rid of
your superfluous incumbrances, and to consider the bad-
ness of the times, which promises you neither a speedy
return nor a safe one. Your wisdom ought to know, that
no one will think the less of you, if, in conformity to your
circumstances, and in condescension to the religious house
vol ir. p

170 BECKET.

which entertains you, you content yourself with a mode-
rate establishment of horses and men, such as your neces-
sities require."

The archbishop had indeed from the beginning been
sensible of his insufficiency for the high office to which he
was called, but unlike the bishop of Worcester, to whom
reference has before been made, and who was complacent
in his ignorance, he endeavoured to prepare himself for
his duties, by securing the assistance of Hubert de
Boscham, to assist him in his theological reading. The
following is Hubert's own account, as given in the Quadri-
logue : " after early service he took a little sleep ; and
then, before any of the rest were up, he would set to
reading the sacred volume, with only one of his train by
him, to assist him in unfolding its mysteries. He
used to confess that the Scriptures were so deep and
obscure in many places, that he was always afraid of
falling into error, unless there was some one to direct him.
And therefore, while on plain passages he would trust to
what his own understanding told him, in the examination
of difficulties he always took me for his guide. Yes ; he
who had been so distinguished for deeds of prowess, and
who, both as archbishop and in other respects, had risen
to the very summit of excellence, yet trod the path of the
Scriptures with this humble simplicity ; never outstepping
his instructor, or presuming at all upon himself. Often
in 'our journeys would he turn his horse out of the main
road, and calling the same attendant to his side, discuss
theological subjects while travelling ; every now and then
repeating, ' How I wish I could retire a little from
secular business, and pursue these subjects quietly and at
my leisure.' "

"Without doubt," wrote John of Salisbury, in the
spring of 1166, " this exile has been of the greatest service
to my lord of Canterbury, both in regard to his literary
attainments and the" tone of his mind. I hope, too, it has
not been lost on myself." In the summer of the same

BECKET. 171

year, writing to another friend, he remarks : " concerning
the cause of my lord of Canterbury, I do not despair, for he
himself hath hope in the Lord, penancing himself for the
deeds he did as a courtier, nor as I think doth he make
flesh his arm." And again, in the autumn following,
"with regard to my lord of Canterbury, rest assured that
what he has gained in moral and intellectual graces, far
outweighs all that the king's malignity hath been able to
deprive him of."

It is pleasant in the midst of these controversies to read
of this growth in grace, and to find that Becket could
profit by the deep spirituality of his friends. And at the
same time nothing is more offensive than the conduct of
the pope, who always held out to him strong assurances of
support, and as often as he stood in need of it, deserted
him ; in the words of John of Salisbury, " he often
preferred might to right, and tolerated as a statesman
what he could never approve as a prelate :" the pope him-
self admitted that he could not risk the loss of Peter's
pence, by aiding Becket as he could wish : and the king
at one time did not hesitate to tell the bishop of Worcester
and the other bishops, that he had "his lordship the
pope and all the cardinals in his purse."

Henry knew how to play his game against the pope.
We have already stated that an anti-pope was in existence,
supported by the emperor Frederick Barbarossa, and at a
diet held at Wurtzburg, ambassadors from Henry had
appeared, among whom was the notorious John of Oxford.
How far the ambassadors implicated Henry in the schism
does not appear, but though they may have exceeded their
instructions, they were evidently sent to Wurtzburg to
alarm the pope, at a time when he seemed too much
inclined to favour the cause of Becket. And from a
correspondence between the pope and the bishops of the
church of England, it appears that the end designed by
the king was, to some extent, effected. But the undaunted
primate addressed to the king admonitory letters, at first
in a tone of deep respect and even of affection ; but after-

J 72 BECKET.

wards, with such expressions of warning as could not
be misinterpreted. Henry was alarmed by the tone of
these letters ; knowing the archbishop to be a man not of
words but of deeds, he perceived that unless he took the
necessary precautions, his kingdom would soon be under
an interdict, and himself excommunicated ; he held, there-
fore, a conference with his barons and confidential friends
at Chinon, in Touraine, when he behaved with extreme
petulence, and declared, with groans and tears, that his
barons were a pack of traitors, in not freeing him from a
man who "tore his soul and body from him." He was
rebuked with warmth, and yet gently, for his violence, by
the archbishop of Rouen, while the politic Arnulph, bishop
of Lisieux, suggested that the only measure which could
avert the impending sentence, was an appeal in the
name of the king to the pope. And Henry, who had
commenced this controversy, by reference to those ancient
customs of his kingdom, through which he desired to
suppress the right of appeal, had now in his own defence
recourse to it. Thus, on all sides, by king and prelates,
as passion or self-interest swayed, were the liberties of the
church of England sacrificed, and our venerable establish-
ment bound with fetters to the papal chair. The bishops
of Lisieux and Seez were despatched to notify the appeal
to the primate. But they found him not at Pontigny.

The apprehensions of the king were not unfounded :
before his messengers arrived at Pontigny, Becket had
gone to Soissons, and there underwent a process, marvel-
lous according to modern notions, and shewing that
although he had assumed the episcopal rule, he had not
laid aside his martial and chivalrous feeling. He seems
to have thought himself a spiritual champion, engaged in
a kind of duel with Henry, and had gone to Soissons, there,
as John of Salisbury expresses it, to gird himself against
the day of battle. Thither he went to commend himself
especially to St Drausius, to whom, as the said John of
Salisbury remarks, " men resort before a duel, and who,
according to the belief in France and Loraine, imparts the

BECKET. 173

certainty of victory to all who watch a night before his
shrine. " The Burgundians too, and even the Italians,"
he adds, "fly to him for succour before they hazard any
perilous eu counter. Here it was that Robert de Montfort
watched before his combat with Henry of Essex." It
ought to be observed that a duel was at this time one of
the legal modes of settling a dispute, and was conducted
strictly according to the forms of law. When two cham-
pions fought it was believed that God would defend the
right. But it is curious to find Becket giving in to this
superstition, not because we should expect him to be in
advance of the tradition of his age, but because it shews
the temper of his mind at the time. He was fighting, as
he supposed, like a knight, in defence of the Church, and
carried into the combat the generous ' and disinterested
feelings of true chivalry. This throws an interest into
his character ; but it is not the character of a saint,
such as the church of Rome does, and the church of
England does not, regard him.

Three nights, in the true spirit of chivalry, did he
watch before the altars, and then returned, full of holy
ardour, and armed for the battle. It was in the church
at Vezelay, on Whitsunday, that he intended to pronounce
his sentence of excommunication ; but two days before, a
messenger from the king of France informed him that
Henry was dangerously ill. He thought it proper, there-
fore, to defer the sentence as it regarded the king. But
with respect to others he proceeded to act.

On the morning of the festival, amidst an immense
concourse of people, the archbishop ascended the pulpit
and preached. At the close of the sermon a solemn pause
ensued ; the torches were extinguished ; the bells tolled ;
the crosses were inverted, and he pronounced his anathe-
mas. He cut off from the society of the faithful, John of
Oxford, who had communicated with the anti-pope ; those
of the royal ministers who had framed the constitutions
of Clarendon ; and all who had invaded the property of

p -4

174 BECKET.

the Church. The constitutions of Clarendon he read,
and six of them, as given above, he condemned. He
named the king, mentioned the letters he had written to
him, and now publicly called upon him to repent, and
to make satisfaction for the injuries he had done to the
Church, declaring that if he persisted in his sin, the
sentence they had heard pronounced against others should
speedily fall on his own head.

Becket returned in haste to Pontigny, whence he wrote to
his suffragans in England, and to Alexander, stating what
he had done. The pope was at this time inclined to support
him. Henry was naturally alarmed, lest this should only
be the first step towards laying his kingdom under an
interdict, when all the offices of the Church would be
suspended, and he himself be rendered liable to attack from
any enemy who might think fit to assail him. He there-
fore sent orders into England, that all communication
with the archbishop, under the severest penalty, should
cease ; that the ports should be diligently watched, and
that the prelates of his realm, directly in the teeth of the
constitutions of Clarendon, should renew their appeals to
the pope. The prelates appealed, and an angry corres-
pondence ensued between them, especially Gilbert Foliot,
bishop of London, their leader, and the primate. The
latter, as usual, received encouragement and advice from
the excellent John of Salisbury, who seems to have treated
him as his child. " Some," he said, " will disapprove of
the rashness of thus exposing your life to your enemy's
swords, and will call it wiser to defer the danger till more
thorough repentance has fitted you for martyrdom, I answer,
no one is unfit but the unwilling. Young be he or old,
jew or gentile, christian or infidel, man or woman, it
matters not. Whoever suffers for justice is a martyr, i. e.
a witness of truth, an asserter of Christ's cause." His
rhetoric, in alluding to an infidel, detracts from the effect
of this sentence. In advising Becket further, he exhorts
him to meet the archbishop of Rouen, who gave out that

BECKET. 175

all his actions proceeded from pride and anger, " with a
studied display of moderation in all your words and
actions, as ivell as your dress and deportment. And yet this
will be of little avail in the sight of God, unless it proceeds
from the inner secrets of your conscience." " But more
than all," he says in another part of his letter, " be dili-
gent in prayer and the other exercises of Christian
warfare." " I think, too, that you have the Spirit of God.
For he who gave you zeal when your deserts were little,
will not refuse you wisdom now you deserve it and are in
this emergency. I advise you then, as an old father and
master" (Theobald, archbishop of Canterbury,) "used to
say to you, ' not to hide in your boot what God inspires
into your heart,' nor to prefer the counsels of less wakeful
and sincere advisers." Of the English bishops, John of
Salisbury says, " some had married wives, and were ener-
vated ; others had bought yokes of oxen ; others had been
heaping up riches, not telling who should gather them ;
all were engrossed in pleasures of one sort or another ;
and therefore they chose, I say, to have their ears bored
with an awl, and to mark themselves as bondmen for ever
to the iniquitous Customs, rather than be elevated to
spiritual liberty." This is the sentence of a partizan, for
some of the bishops of the church of England, and Gilbert
Foliot, their leader, were men of a highly spiritual class of
mind, who disliked Becket from the beginning, because
they regarded him as a mere polemic.

Things now for a little time went on prosperously with
Becket ; his public acts were in the course of the summer
confirmed by the pope, who ratified his suspension of the
bishop of Salisbury for admitting John of Oxford to the
deanery of his church, and the excommunications of
Vezelay. Towards the end of September, the pope issued
a mandate for restoring to the exiled party the benefices
and the proceeds from them, of which they had been
unjustly deprived ; and, what was perhaps the most im-
portant step of all, as indicating his favourable feeling
towards the archbishop, he now conferred on him the

176 BECKET.

appointment of legate, which had been his intention for
some time back. The cause of the king seemed thus to
be in a most unprosperous condition, when for a while it
was restored to better hopes, by the success which attended
an embassy to Rome, not so much with a view of prose-
cuting the appeal, as to sooth the pontiff, who was at
this time in great need of money, to bribe the cardinals,
and to procure the appointment of two legates from the
papal court. At the head of this embassy was John of
Oxford, who had suggested the expedient ; a man noto-
rious as one who was at all times ready to swear and to
forswear himself, and who was known by the name of John
the swearer. It was a bold step to send him, as he was
excommunicated and denounced at Rome, and was an
enemy of Alexander as well as of the primate, having had
communications with the anti-pope. But the appointment
was in a worldly sense a wise one. The gold of his master
he largely distributed with both hands, and but few of
" the sacred college" refused it. The cardinals espoused
his cause. He was ready to make every concession. He
was himself absolved from excommunication; resigning
the deanery of Salisbury into the hands of the pope, he
was by the pope reinstated in it ; and declaring that " the
difference between the king and the archbishop might be
accommodated were there an honest man to mediate," he
obtained a promise that legates should be sent.

Henry had recourse to conduct as mean as it was
vindictive against the archbishop, for, seeing the undis-
turbed life he was leading at Pontigny, a monastery of
the Cistercian order, he signified to the chapter that if
they harboured his enemy much longer, he should confis-
cate their property in England. The monks of Pontigny
were perplexed, but Becket saved them from their per-
plexities by removing to Sens, where he was gladly received
by the bishop and people, and lived under the protection
of the king of France. At Sens he contrived to reside
throughout the remainder of his exile.

Nothing could exceed the astonishment of the primate

BECKET. 177

and his friends, when the humiliating news reached them
of the appointment of the legates. Becket wrote letters ex-
pressive of the strongest indignation, censuring the weak
pliancy of Alexander and the venality of "the sacred college."
" If reports be true," wrote Becket to a friend, "he has not
only choked and strangled me, but himself, all ecclesias-
tics, and the two churches of England and France."
Henry was in proportion elated; " I have the pope," he
said, " and cardinals in my purse, nor need you fear any
of their threats," and he then told his courtiers what
cardinals had taken money, and by what means they had
been bribed. He forgot to add, that to cany his point he
had conceded the object in dispute, and that John of
Oxford had submitted the constitutions of Clarendon to
the judgment of the pope ; for by this concession he never
intended to abide. On the other hand, Louis, who was
true to the archbishop, and not less indignant, declared
that the legates should not pass through his kingdom.
" Had he sent them," he exclaimed, " to take the crown
from my head, I should not have been more troubled."
And the friends of the archbishop had more reason to
feel indignant, when they found placed at the head of the
legatine commission William of Pavia, who was hostile to
Becket, and who openly declared his predetermination to
decide in favour of the king, and on whom it was reported
that the see of Canterbury would be conferred if Becket
were deposed. The other legate was cardinal Otho, of
St Nicholas, with whom Becket was less dissatisfied,
though he too was known to be favourable to the king.

But the vacillating and time-serving Alexander was
alarmed by the indignation with which his proposed mea-
sure had been regarded by the French king, and he
actually nullified the whole proceeding, by commanding
his legates not to enter Henry's dominions, or to take any
decided steps, till the archbishop was reconciled to the
king ; so that the legates, granted as a boon to Henry,
were restrained from acting, in order to conciliate Louis,
till Becket might think fit to give authority to their pro-

178 BECKET.

ceedings. In writing to Louis, after eulogizing the
archbishop, and requesting him to use his good offices to
promote reconciliation, he adds, " But should our efforts
fail, might it be agreeable to you, and not offensive to the
dignitaries of your realm, I should be happy to appoint
the archbishop my legate in the kingdom of France. Let
this be secret."

William of Pavia wrote a haughty letter to Becket with
reference to the legation, and Becket prepared first one
and then another letter in reply, full of indignation and
sarcasm, the first of which, certainly, and the second of
which, probably, he laid aside without sending, on the
advice of his faithful and fearless adviser and friend, John
of Salisbury, who, with reference to the first of Becket's
letters, honestly says : " I have read the letter which your
lordship means to send lord William : and though I will not
pass sentence on the writer, I certainly cannot approve
the style. To my mind it is deficient in humility, and
not quite consistent with the command, ' let your modera-
tion be known to all, the Lord is at hand.' If your
lordship's letter and his are compared clause by clause,
the answer seems conceived in a spirit of bitterness, very
foreign to the sincerity of Christian love."

Softened by the admonitions of his friend, for the high-
spirited archbishop seemed always ready to bend before
the rebukes of one whom he felt to be his superior in
godliness as well as in learning, Becket obtained a pass-
port for the legates for their journey through France,
which, except for his interposition Louis would not have
granted, and for obtaining which he received a letter of
thanks from cardinal Otho.

The legates, on arriving in Normandy, had an interview
with the king, and they appointed a day for conference
with the archbishop. On the 18th of November, 1167,
the conference took place between Gisors and Trie. The
legates sought by every means to bend if possible the
firmness of Becket, and recommended to him moderation
and humility. The king and his party made bitter com-

BECKET. 179

plaints of his ingratitude, and charged him with exciting
war between England and France and Flanders. Becket
defended himself against all the charges brought against
him, and as to the humility and deference which they re-
commended, he declared himself most anxious to exhibit
it in every way, saving only the honor of God, the
liberty of the Church, and the dignity of his own station.
If this seemed too little or too much, or in any way dif-
ferent from their view, he was ready to make any com-
pliance, consistent with his oaths, and saving his order.
As to the charge of having caused war between the kings
of England and France, the king of France assured the
legates upon oath, that the primate had counselled peace,
on such terms as should secure the honor of the two kings
and the tranquillity of the people.

Henry had consented to some trifling modification of
the constitutions of Clarendon, and in the strerjgth. of this
the legates endeavoured to persuade Becket to comply in
all things to the king's wishes ; on the archbishop's refus-
ing to do this, as the alteration made no essential differ-
ence in the state of the case, the legates had nothing else
to do but to return to the king to report progress. They
found the king at Argentan. What passed at their
audience is not known; but, in about two hours, they
came out and the king walked with the legates to an outer
door: "May my eyes never look on a cardinal again!"
was his angry exclamation as they turned from him. The
legates, however, had another interview with the king,
and shewed the spirit with which they had entered on
their task, by sending to the pope partial statements of the
position of affairs, and of the conduct of either party,
which told against the archbishop, and which were of
course seconded by the efforts of the envoys of Henry at
the court of Rome. In order to obtain time and prevent
the archbishop from placing the kingdom under an inter-
dict, a fresh appeal was instituted to the see of Rome.

Various controversies on points of minor interest
occurred in the year 1168 between the legates and the

180 BECKET.

archbishop. Their unfriendly influence and partial acts
were met with a promptness and vigilance by Becket,
which must have rendered their legantine a complete
failure in the estimation of the king, when the king's
envoys unexpectedly returned from Koine with letters from
the pope, signifying that the archbishop had been sus-
pended, that is, forbidden all exercise of his spiritual
powers, till such time as it should please the king to be
reconciled to him. The archbishop and his friends were
astounded. The effect that this measure had upon the
king is described by John of Salisbury in a letter to
Lombard.

'* The king soon made it evident how he had triumphed
over his lordship the pope, and over the church of Rome ;
and to hold up his lordship of Canterbury and his fol-
lowers, as a scorn of men and an outcast of the people,
he caused transcripts to be made of certain letters from
his lordship the pope, licensing him to sin in impunity,
and forwarded them to all the churches and dignitaries of
each kingdom. He boasted, too, that he had in the court
such friends as rendered all the attempts of the arch-
bishop of Canterbury ineffectual; friends so active in his
interest, that the archbishop could make no petition or
demand, of which he did not receive immediate notice.
We know the names of those whose services he makes use
of, and through whose influence in the court, the cause of
God and of Christ's little ones, has been thus sold for
nought. (For the multitude was not in their counsels.)
Would that those ounces of gold had never been, through
which, those who ought to have been the pillars of the
Church were excited to cause its fall. So elated was the
king with this his triumph, that in his own family he
he could not refrain from naming those of the cardinals
who had accepted his pestilential gold, and those who
were his agents, in dispensing to some more to some less,
according to the zeal they had shown in subverting
justice.

"When we were at Montmirail, the king of France

BECKET. 181

learned that a messenger from his lordship, John of
Naples, had gone over from his camp to the king of
England, and the other persecutors of the Church.

" The religious who take part with the king of England,
when they heard the aforesaid letters, were sad beyond
measure, and uttered imprecations against John of Naples,
and John of St John and St Paul, who were said to have
seduced his lordship the pope. M. Geoffrey, of Poictiers,
a cleric of my lord cardinal William, did not consent to
the counsel and practices of the king's ambassadors, (for
he himself too is waiting for the kingdom of God) but
openly protested, ' that they had perjured themselves,
and incurred an anathema ; ' inasmuch as they had sworn
that the pope's mandate should be kept secret, and that
his holiness had commanded them so to keep it, in virtue
of their obedience, and under peril of an anathema:
whereas they, to render us contemptible and our friends
disconsolate, herald forth with their king the triumphs
of their own wickedness, glorying in the confusion of the
Church.

" Would that my lord cardinals were within hearing of
the French ; among whom it has become a proverb, that
the princes of the Church are faithless, and companions of
thieves, ' Ecclesiae principes inrideles, socii furum;' for
that they authorise the plunder of Christ's patrimony, to
share in it. Would that you likewise could hear his most
christian majesty, who, as I fear, is now irrevocably deter-
mined, at the solicitation of the emperor, to contract a
marriage between their children. Earl Henry is urging
this, and entertains great hopes of succeeding.

"And now I entreat you, use your influence with his
lordship the pope, urging him to act the part of a judge.
Let him absolve the innocent who is bound without cause,
and condemn the impious who is now displaying to the
whole world his prowess as a persecutor. Endeavour also
to procure an injunction against the archbishop of York,
that he may be compelled to show deference and subjection
to the suffering Church of Canterbury."

VOL. II. q

182 BECKET.

The conduct of the pope was still as inconsistent as it
had been all along : although he thus gave a triumph to
Henry, he still feared to provoke Becket beyond endurance ;
and while writing to the bishops of our church admitting
their appeal, he censured them severely for their disobedi-
ence to their metropolitan. But the most extraordinary
thing was that in writing to Becket to console him, he
mentioned a little fact of a very consolatory nature which
by artifice or accident he had forgotten to mention to
Henry, namely that the suspension was only to last till
Lent. Becket did not fail to express his feelings of indig-
nation to the pope, to whom, in ignorance of his rights
as an independent archbishop, he had yielded already
too much. The following extracts from the archbishop's
letter will show the state of his feelings :

" Holy father, it is an easy matter to suspend the
powers of our office, but not so easy to arrest the right
arm of our God, which is now bowing the heads of tyrants.
Your faithful ones fear much, that, while you wait better
times for the execution of justice, the best may slip away
from you. Our enemies are now in a strait. He who
terrifies is himself more terrified. ' Be comforted,' saith
the Lord, ' and be strong, and fear not their faces, for I
am with thee.'

" O, my father, my soul is in bitterness ; the letters in
which your holiness was pleased to suspend me, have
made myself and my unhappy fellow-exiles, a very scorn
of men and outcast of the people ; and what grieves me
worse, have delivered up God's Church to the will of its
enemies.

" Our persecutor had held out sure hopes to the earl of
Flanders, and others of the French nobility, that he meant
to make peace with us. But his messengers arrived with
their new powers from your holiness, and all was at an
end.

" What could our friends do for us when thus repulsed
by your holiness's act, and smitten down as with the club
of Hercules ?

BECKET. 183

'• Would that your holiness's ears could hear what is said
of this matter by the bishops, nobles, and commons of
both realms ; and that your eye could see the scandal
with which it has filled the French court.

" But your holiness counsels me to bear with patience
the meanwhile

" And do you not observe, 0 father, what this mean-
while may bring about, to the injury of the Church and
of your holiness's reputation?

" Meanwhile, he applies to his own purposes the reve-
nues of the vacant abbeys and bishoprics, and will not
suffer pastors to be ordained there : meanwhile, he riots
in uncontrolled insolence against the parishes, churches,
holy places, and the whole sacred order : meanwhile, he
and the other persecutors of the Church, make their will
their law : meanwhile, who is to take charge of the sheep
of Christ, and save them from the jaws of wolves, who no
longer prowl around, but have entered the fold, and devour,
and tear, and slay, with none to resist them ? For what
pastor is there whose voice you have not silenced ? what
bishop have you not suspended in suspending me ?

" This act of your holiness's is alike unexampled and
unmerited, and will do the work of tyrants in other days
as well as yours. Your holiness has set an example ready
to their hands ; and doubtless this man and his posterity,
unless your holiness take steps to order otherwise, will
draw it into a precedent. He and his nobles, whatever
be their crime, will claim among the privileges of the
realm, exemption from any sentence of excommunication
or interdict, till authorized by the apostolic see ; then in
time, when the evil has taken root, neither will the chief
priest of Rome himself find any in the whole kingdom, to
take part with him against the king and his princes.

" And yet I doubt not that this struggle for the Church's
liberty would long ago have been brought to a close, unless
his wilfulness, not to use a harsher term, had found
patrons in the church of Rome. God requite them as is
best for His Church and for themselves. The Almighty

184 BECEET.

all-just Lord God judge between me and them. Little
should I have needed their patronage, if I had chosen to
forsake the Church, and yield to his wilfulness myself. I
might have flourished in wealth and abundance of deli-
cacies ; I might have been feared, courted, honoured, and
might have provided for my own in luxury and worldly
glory, as I pleased. But because God called me to the
government of His Church, an unworthy sinner as I was,
and most wretched, though flourishing in the world's goods
beyond all my countrymen, through His grace preventing
and assisting me, I chose rather to be an outcast from the
palace, to be exiled, proscribed, and to finish my life in the
last wretchedness, than to sell the Church's liberty, and
to prefer the iniquitous traditions of men, to the law
of God.

" Such a course be for those who promise themselves
many days, and in the consciousness of their deserts, ex-
pect better times. For myself, I know that my own days
are few ; and that unless I declare to the wicked man his
ways, his blood will shortly be required at my hands, by
One from whom no patronage can protect me.

• There silver and gold will be profitless, and gifts that
blind the eyes of wise ones.

■• We shall soon stand all of us before the tribunal of
Christ, and by His majesty and terrible judgment I con-
jure your holiness, as my father and lord, and as the
supreme judge on earth, to render justice to His Church,
and to myself, against those who seek my life to take it
away."

While Becket was remonstrating, anl the king of France
shewing his disgust at Alexander's conduct, Henry was
turning the license which had been given him to a practical
account. He had already alienated many of the lands and
-sions of the church of Canterbury, besides commit-
ting wanton destruction on what was left, and had begun
to levy exactions from the whole body of the clergy, and
was proceeding to further acts of violence, when the pope
began to see the necessity of retracing his steps. He ap-

BECKET. 1-:.

pointed an embassy for the purpose of remonstrating with
Henry and pressing him to reconciliation, on peril of the
sentence of the Church which would otherwise inevitably
fall upon him, when the restraint at present imposed
upon the archbishop was removed. This appointment
took place towards the close of the year 1168, the en-
voys chosen being Simon, prior of Montdieu. Engelbert,
prior of Le Val de St Pierre, and Bernard, a monk of
GrammoDt.

Through the intercession of these envoys Beckt-
persuaded to present himself before Henry at Montmirail,
where the kings of France and England had met in c
ence to settle their political differences : though in attend-
ing the conference the archbishop himself felt no
tation of a satisfactory result. Henry in appearance gave
way and made concessions. The constitutions of Clarendon
were not mentioned by name ; but then Becket was re-
quired to swear that he would keep to the ancient customs
of the realm. He consented to do this with the clause.
savin rf his order, and as far as his duty to God permitted :
the king demanded the oath absolutely and without
ditions: and they parted without coming to terms. The
impression on most panics seems to have been that Becket
had acted with obstinacy rather than firmness* The king
of France, who had endeavoured to persuade him to yield.
seemed to be irritated against him. and his dependants
began to murmur.

But Becket. unintimidated, had recourse again to -
rity. On all sides, he spread his censures, suspending
and excommunicating many, but those particularly who
had pillaged, or who kept possession of the effects be-
longing to his see. Among these was the bishop of
London, whom before, it seems, he had suspended,
general was the sentence, that scarcely among the king's
chaplains was there one, from whom, at mass, he could
take the kiss of peace. Fearful that the anathema might
reach them, the prelates of the realm and the nobles
Q.9

186 BECKET.

reiterated their appeals to Rome ; and the king again sent
messengers to the pontiff, namely, the archdeacons of
Salisbury and Landaff."

The pope expressed himself towards Becket with con-
siderable displeasure at these violent proceedings, and
advised him to suspend the sentence he had pronounced
against the dignitaries of the realm, in order to mitigate
the king's wrath till he should hear from the papal envoys
whether the king would realize his promise of recalling
him. The matter, in the end, was handed over, as all other
points at issue, to an embassy, the third which had been
appointed in the course of the two last years. The nuncios
appointed were Gratian and Vivian, men learned in the
laws, and of great reputation in the Roman court. They
were bound by oath not to accept any present from Henry,
and they came with a form of agreement prescribed by
Alexander, and if the king would not consent to it, they
were ordered to leave him.

Their first interview with the king was at Donefront in
Normandy which led to no satisfactory result, both parties
separating in anger ; but at a conference held soon after at
Baieux the nuncios were more successful, and Henry ex-
pressed his readiness to permit Becket to return to his
see, and to take the archbishop and his friends once more
into favour. But peace was not yet restored. The form
of reconciliation remained to be settled, and the king in-
sisted that the words, saving the dignity of his kingdom,
should be inserted. " That was but a softer name for the
customs of Clarendon," observed the primate's friends,
and proposed that the counter-clause, saving the dignity
of the Church, should then be admitted. Assemblies
were held; discussions full of acrimony were revived; and
neither party would recede. Michaelmas, in the mean
time, approached, when the commission of the nuncios
expired, and Gratian, weary of the fruitless negociation,
prepared to return into Italy. Vivian remained.

The king had more confidence in Vivian, imagining,

BECKET. 187

after the departure of his colleague, that he might be pre-
vailed on to adopt his measures. He proposed to meet
him at St Denys, to which place Vivian entreated that
Becket also would repair, being convinced, from some ex-
pressions of Henry, that an accommodation would now be
effected. The primate very reluctantly consented, and
came to Corbeil. At St Denys, where the two kings again
met on some public business, Vivian, in vain, laboured to
extort from Henry a final compliance with the promise,
he thought he had made him. His answers were evasive;
and the Italian finding himself duped, did not restrain
his anger: " So lying a prince," said he, " I never heard
or saw." They parted ; and the king, passing by Mont-
martre, was visited by Becket. The archbishop of Rouen,
with other mediators, spoke for the primate ; requesting
in his name, that to him and his friends he would give
peace, permit their return, and restore their possessions
to them : " while the primate, on his side, they said, was
ready to do all that an archbishop owed to his prince."
After some conversation, which seemed to promise a happy
issue, the petition was reduced to writing, when Becket
added that, as a pledge of favour and greater security, he
hoped he might be reconciled to the king by a kiss of
peace. This was a customary form in reconciliations.
The petition was read, and much approved; but again the
king had recourse to evasions, using a circuitous language,
which, while it seemed to grant every thing, was, in fact,
loaded with inadmissible conditions. " And as to the
kiss of peace," said he, "willingly I would grant the
pledge, had I not publicly sworn in my anger never to do
it, though concord were restored betwixt us." Thus ended
the treaty ; for the king of France and many others
strongly advised the primate not to return to his see,
unless Henry gave this easy token of peace.

The year 116U closed without any reconciliation being
effected between the king and the primate. But Henry,
knowing the firmness and determination of Becket, was
now in no little alarm lest his kingdom should be placed

188 BECKET.

under an interdict. He sent therefore an edict into
England purporting, that if any person should be found
carrying any mandate from the archbishop or the pope,
whereby an interdict should be laid on the country, he
should be treated as a traitor to the king and kingdom.
He also in 1170 procured the coronation of his son Henry,
a ceremony at which the archbishop of York officiated,
though it was the province, by prescription, of the arch-
bishop of Canterbury ; and thus he again placed himself
in the wrong, and afforded a new grievance, of which
Becket justly complained. The policy of this measure
has been amply but unsatisfactorily discussed by modern
historians; perhaps Henry supposed that by having his son
anointed, if he himself were excommunicated, there would
be a way through his son of evading the interdict. But
whatever may have been the policy of the measure, Henry
now perceived difficulties increasing around him, and that
nothing but a reconciliation with Becket would restore
him to peace. He was tired of the controversy, and acted
as impetuously in seeking a recouciliation as he had when
commencing the quarrel.

The pope had previously issued a new commission to
Rotrodus or Rotrou archbishop of Rouen, and Bernard
bishop of Nevers, who were ordered to wait upon Henry,
and to admonish him to permit Becket to return to his
see, to restore to him and his friends their possessions
with full security, and to be reconciled to him with the
kiss of peace : if he refused they were directed to lay all
his dominions in France under an interdict ; but if a
prospect of accommodation appeared, they were authorized
to absolve the excommunicated, and to exhort the king to
abolish the evil customs of his kingdom. Alexander had
received an intimation that to these terms Henry would
submit, and before he left England the king assured the
nuncios that nothing should on his side frustrate the
treaty.

The king and the archbishop met by agreement in a
meadow near the town of Freitville, on the borders of

BECKET. 189

Touraine, where he had held a conference and settled his
differences with the king of France. As soon as Becket
appeared, the king spurring forward his horse with his
cap in his hand, prevented his salutation, and as if no
dissention had ever divided them, discoursed with him
apart with all that easy familiarity which had distinguished
their former friendship. The crowd of spectators was
vast, and all viewed the transaction with pleasure. With
much gentleness, the primate exhorted Henry to retrieve
his reputation which had suffered, and to make satisfaction
to the Church. The king assented. Becket then spoke of
the late coronation, which he represented as an enormous
derogation from the rights of Canterbury, and histori-
cally detailed the uniform practice from the conquest.
"I doubt not," said Henry, "but your see is the most
noble amongst the western churches ; nor is it my wish
to deprive it of its rights ; rather, as you shall advise, I
will strive to repair the evil, and to restore to Canterbury
its pristine dignity. But to those who hitherto have
betrayed both you and me, I will, by the blessing of God,
make such an answer, as the deserts of traitors demand."
At the words, Becket sprang from his horse, and threw
himself before the king; but he, seizing the stirrup, forced
him to remount, and said, as the tears fell from his eyes :
" My lord archbishop, why many words ? Let us restore
to each other our former affection, and in mutual good
offices, forget every cause of rancour. But shew me
honour, I beg, before those yonder, who have their eyes
turned towards us." With this, leaving Becket, he rode
up to the company, and observing some there who had
been promoters of the late quarrel, he spoke : " If, when
I find the primate full of all good dispositions in my
regard, I were not reciprocally good to him, truly, I
should be the worst of men, and prove that to be true,
which is said of me. There cannot be any counsel more
honourable or useful to me, than that I should strive to
go before him in kindness, and surpass him in the general

190 BECKET.

practice of beneficence." The address was received with
the warmest plaudits.

He sent to the primate, who remained at a distance,
desiring he would now, in the face of the assembly, state
his petition. The bishops who bore the message, advised
him to submit himself and his cause to the king's plea-
sure ; but he declined their counsel, and they left him.
He then deliberated with his friends, the companions
principally of his exile ; and having adjusted the terms,
they all moved towards the king, who stood surrounded by
his attendants. In the name of Becket, the archbishop
of Sens spoke, and petitioned, "that he would restore to
the primate his royal favour, peace and security to him
and his, with the church of Canterbury, and the posses-
sions belonging to it, as set down in a writing the king
had seen ; that he would be graciously pleased to amend,
what had been presumptuously done against him and his
church, in the late coronation ; while, on his side, the
primate promised love and honour, and whatever service
can be performed in the Lord, by an archbishop, to his
sovereign." — " I agree to all," replied the monarch, " and
the primate and his friends I again take into favour."

A long and private conversation, with the familiarity of
ancient friendship, now took place between them ; and
only as night approached, they parted, having agreed, that
Becket should first wait on the French king and his other
benefactors, as gratitude required ; and then make some
stay with Henry, before he returned into England, that
the world might learn how sincere their reconciliation was.
They were departing, when it was proposed to Becket, that
he should absolve the excommunicated, shewing to others
the indulgence, which himself had just experienced. He
observed, that the cases were very different, there being
some in that number whom the pope and other bishops
had suspended, and whose crimes were of various descrip-
tions . "But being willing to shew mercy to all," said he,
41 1 will take the advice of my king, and proceed as shall

BECKET. 191

seem most expedient." Apprehensive that an altercation
might ensue, Henry drew the primate from the crowd, and
requesting he would not heed the discourses of such men,
he begged his benediction, and they all retired.

Soon after the conference, as they had been empowered,
the commissioners absolved the excommunicated ; and
Becket despatched agents to take possession of the lands
and the effects of his see ; for the king had sent letters
patent to his son, whereby he was commanded to make an
ample restitution of all things, as they had been possessed
three months before the prirnate departed from England.
But it was the interest of many not to comply with these
injunctions. They had long received the great revenues
of the see, and were not disposed to relinquish them. Ex-
cuses therefore were made, difficulties were raised, the
young king was imposed upon, and the day of restitution
was put off. In the mean time, greater extortions were
committed, and the produce of the lands, and the furni-
ture of houses and castles, were consumed or conveyed to
a distance. So the agents reported.

Becket did not see the king again for several weeks,
and when he waited upon him at Tours he was received
with a marked coolness ; and the king, being pressed
to execute the terms of peace, he told Becket to go to
England, and that his possessions would be restored.
A few days after, he met him at Chaumont near Blois,
when Henry, with great kindness, conversed with him ;
and it was finally agreed, that he should immediately
return to Canterbury. But it was evident, that the
king's heart was altered, and that he felt no longer the
warmth of returning affection, which he had expressed
at Freitville. From that time two months had elapsed.
The change might be owing to many causes, (if ever his
professions were sincere,) but principally it arose from the
representations of those, who were interested in the pro-
longation of the quarrel, or who, from enmity to Becket,
wished he might never return.

These proceedings forced Becket to complain again to

19Q BECKET.

the court of Rome, and he now received the support in
that quarter which he had long desired, but sought for in
vain. The court of Rome, with its usual policy, aided
Becket when they perceived the cause of Becket to be the
strongest. The pope of Rome was now fully prepared
to support the primate of Canterbury, if the latter laid
England under an interdict, and he was advised to do so

o

if Henry still continued to violate his engagements. All
occupiers of church lands were ordered to make restitution
on pain of excommunication ; and the bishops who had
assisted at the coronation of prince Henry were suspended,
both on account of the irregularity of their proceedings,
and because they allowed the omission of the oath for
maintaining the liberty of the Church, and had themselves
sworn to observe the constitutions of Clarendon. The
bishops of London and Salisbury also, had been placed
again under the sentence of excommunication, which
Becket had pronounced, and which, by the usurped autho-
rity of the see of Rome, had been removed through the
management of John of Oxford. It is impossible not to
regret the entire submission which Becket exhibited to
the see of Rome, contrary to the canons of the Church
universal, and the more so as he had the wisdom to see
that the court of Rome ^as now as injudicious in its
support, as it had been before unjust in its interference
between him and the king. So strong, indeed, were the
threatened proceedings of the pope at this time, that
Becket for once was obliged to be moderator, and actually
withheld some letters, which gave him an authority to
exercise greater severity than he considered wise and
prudent.

It would have been well if Becket had continued to act
with this prudence. But while he was at Witsand, pre-
paring to sail for England, information was brought him
that the three prelates, Roger of York, Gilbert of London,
and Joscelin of Salisbury, who knew that the archbishop
carried with him papal letters for their suspension, which
he might use at any time, had sent to the coast Ranulf de

BECKET. 193

Broc, with a party of soldiers, to search him on his
landing, and to take them from him. In a moment of
irritation Becket despatched them before himself by a
trusty messenger, by whom, or by whose means, they were
delivered publicly to the bishops in the presence of their
attendants. Thus had Becket before reaching England
rendered a reconciliation with these powerful prelates im-
possible. He knew his difficulties ; he was forewarned of
his danger. The sarcasms with which the king of Eng-
land still refused the kiss of peace, which was really a part
of his promise, shewed that he meditated hostile proceed-
ings against the archbishop; and it was against the advice
of all that Becket returned to England before this formality
had been conceded. To the friendly advice of some who
came to him with no false reports of deadly preparations
to receive him on the shores of Kent, he answered : "Did
you tell me that I was to be torn limb from limb I would
not regard it ; for I am resolved that nothing shall hinder
my return. Seven years are long enough for a pastor to
have been absent from the Lord's sorrowing flock. I only
ask my friends, and a last request should be attended to,
that if I shall not return to my church alive, they will
carry me into it, dead."

He embarked on the festival of St Andrew, 1170, and
after a prosperous voyage landed in Sandwich harbour on
the first of December. He avoided Dover for reasons
assigned before. He was received by the clergy and peo-
ple with unbounded attestations of joy. The Church
was still the people's party. She was the protector of the
rights and liberties of the people, and was in the middle
ages, as in the primitive ages after the time of Constantine,
always popular, but never more so than when resisting
the tyrannical acts of an unjust government. The Church
was then powerful : and it was because Becket was at the
head of a body thus powerful, that Henry, while he hated,
dared not openly to attack him. It was not till the Church
succumbed to the state, and sought to become an aristo-

VOL. IT, n

194 BECKET.

cratic corporation that her power -was lost, and her means
of benefiting mankind curtailed. On the 3rd of Decem-
ber Becket entered Canterbury, " all the inhabitants,"
says Fitz-Stephen, a witness of the fact, " rejoiced, from
the greatest to the least : they decked out the cathedral ;
dressed themselves in silks and expensive clothing ; pre-
pared a public entertainment : a numerous procession
attended the archbishop into the town : the churches re-
sounded with chants and anthems, and the halls with
trumpets : every where there were sounds of rejoicing.
His lordship preached a most instructive sermon on the
text, " Here we have no continuing city, but seek one to
come." After he had been eight days in England he set
out to wait upon the young king, whom he had brought up
as boy, and for whom he had prepared splendid presents.
On his entering London Fitz-Stephen informs us that " a
vast multitude of clergy, and others, both men and women,
came out to welcome him back from exile, and to bless
God for his return. The poor scholars and the clergy of
the London churches, had drawn themselves up in order
about three miles from the city, and when, immediately
on his approach, with a loud and clear voice, they began
the hymn Te Deum Laudamus, there was scarcely a per-
son present who could refrain from weeping. He himself
bowed his head in gratitude, and caused a large alms to
be distributed. When he had arrived at the church and
dismounted, the canons, who met him in procession at
the porch, sung the first verse of the hymn, ' Blessed is
the Lord God of Israel,' and the whole multitude, laity
and clergy, young and old, took up the response."

Little did the people know that the honest expression
of their joy at receiving their pastor again, only served to
exasperate the enemies of the primate. The courtiers,
wTho dreaded the influence of the archbishop over the
mind of his former pupil, procured a peremptory order for
him to return and confine himself to his diocese. He
obeyed, and spent the following days in prayer and the-

BECKET. 195

functions of his station. Yet they were days of distress
and anxiety. The menaces of his enemies seemed to
derive strength from each succeeding event. His pro-
visions were hourly intercepted ; his property plundered ;
his servants were beaten and insulted. He looked in vain
for support where he had most right to expect it.

It has been stated that the port of Dover, and other
ports, where the archbishop was expected to land, had
been watched. It is hardly fair to consider those who
undertook this office as a mere party of assassins, as is
done by some historians. It was reported that the arch-
bishop was bringing with him mandates from the pope,
and this was contrary to the laws of the land. They were
obeying the king when they determined to search the
archbishop. But on the day after the archbishop's first
arrival at Canterbury, these parties came into the presence
of the primate, and demanded the absolution of those
who had been excommunicated. The bishops of London
and Salisbury would have submitted, but were persuaded
by the prelate of York, who boasted that he had £8,000
in his treasure-box, wherewith to harass the archbishop of
Canterbury, and assured his two brethren that, if they
were reconciled with Becket, the royal hands would soon
be laid upon their temporals. This warning took such an
effect upon the two prelates, that they joined with the
archbishop of York, and immediately passed over to Henry
in Normandy, and made bitter complaints against the
primate, on account of their excommunication, for the
part they had taken in the young king's coronation.
" Truly," answered Henry, with an oath, " if all who took
part in that business are excommunicated, I myself am
not excluded."' The three prelates continued day by day
to urge him, till his anger knew no bounds ; and it is
well known that Henry, when under the influence of rage,
was wont to sink far below human nature.

Others there were who were continually misrepresenting
the actions of the archbishop to the king. On his way
back from London to Canterbury, he was attended bv a

106 BECKET

slight escort, as a precaution against freebooters. There
were in all " five shields, swords, and lances in his train."
It was immediately told Henry that he was making a
circuit of the kingdom at the head of a large army, arrayed
in helmets and coats of mail, that he was besieging towns,
and meditated driving the young king out of the country.
At Canterbury he dismissed his five soldiers. The king's
fury was fanned into resistless violence. He sought
council of his prelates and barons : " My lord," said one,
11 while Thomas lives you can have no peace." With such
violence of gesture as sufficiently spoke his meaning, the
king replied, — " Of the caitiffs who eat my bread, is there
none to free me from this turbulent priest."

Four barons, — Reginald Fitzurse, William de Tracey
Hugo de MoreviUe, and Richard Bryto left the court.

On Christmas-day the archbishop preached at Canter-
bury with his usual earnestness and animation : at the
conclusion, he observed that those who thirsted for his
blood would soon be satisfied, but that he must first
avenge the wrongs of the Church, by excommunicating
Ftanulf and Robert de Broc, who for seven years had not
ceased to inflict every injury in their power on him and
on his clergy.

At Saltwood, the residence of the Brocs, the four barons
above named assembled on the Tuesday following, to
arrange their operations for carrying into effect the vow
they had made, either to carry off or to murder the
primate.

The next day, the 29th of December, while the primate
was conversing on business with some of his clergy, after
dinner, the knights entered his apartment, his palace
forming part of Christ-church. Neglecting his salutation,
they seated themselves on the floor. It seems to have
been their wish to begin by intimidation : but if they
hoped to succeed, they knew little of the intrepid spirit
of their opponent ; and yet they knew him well, for the
atrocity of their conduct is heightened by the fact, that of

BECKET. 107

the four knights, three had, in the days of his prosperity,
sworn fealty to him.

" We bring you orders from the king," said Reginald
Fitzurse, after a pause of silence : " will you hear them in
" public, or in private?" " As it shall please you best,"
replied Becket. " In private then," rejoined Reginald:
on which the company was told to quit the room. But he
had not spoken long, when the primate observed that, it
would be well that others should hear what he said ; and
calling to his clergy, bade them to return. Reginald pro-
ceeded : " We order you, in the king's name, to go to his
son, and pay him the homage which is due to your lord."
" I have done it," replied Becket. — " You have not,"
said Reginald; "for you have suspended his bishops,
which looks as if you would tear the crown from his
head." — " Many crowns, rather, I would place on his
head ; and as to the bishops, they were suspended not by
me, but by the pope ;" answered the primate. — " The
sentence was procured by you," he rejoined. — Becket
said ; " It does not displease me, I confess, when the
pope avenges the injuries of the Church and my own."
He then spoke of the insults he had received, and of the
many evils to which his own possessions and those of his
friends had been exposed, since the reconciliation at
Freitville. "Had you brought these complaints before your
peers," observed Reginald, interrupting him, "justice
had been done you." — " I have experienced the contrary,"
replied Becket: "But, Reginald ; you and more than two
hundred knights were present, when the king told me,
I might compel those to make satisfaction, by ecclesias-
tical censures, who had disturbed the peace of the Church;
nor can I longer dissemble the proper discharge of my
pastoral duties." — The knights sprang from the ground;
"We heard no such words," exclaimed they : " but these
are threats. Honks ; we command you to guard this man :
if he escape, you shall answer for him." So saying, they
went out; but Becket following them to the outward door:
r2

198 BECKET.

" I came not here to run away, gentlemen." he called after
them; "nor do I value your threats." You shall find
something more than threats ;" they answered, and de-
parted.

" It is wonderful," said John of Salisbury, when they
were gone, " that you will take no one's advice. Why
still irritate those miscreants by your replies, and follow
them to the door? We could have advised you better."
" My resolution is taken," answered the primate: " and I
well know what I should do." " Heaven grant it may
he successful ! " rejoined the secretary.

In the court of the palace, under a large mulberry-
tree, the knights took off their outer garments, and ap-
peared in armour; and having opened the door to the
soldiers they had brought with them, they all seized their
arms, and again entered the palace. The arms the knights
bore, were an axe in the left hand, to break through ob-
stacles, if necessary, and in the right they brandished
their naked swords. With much difficulty the primate
had been prevailed on to leave his apartment : but the
monks, whom his danger had alarmed, insisted on it ;
and as the evening service had begun, they led him to the
church. With a slow and reluctant step, he advanced
through the cloisters, and entered by a side door. All was
confusion here. " Cowards," said he to them, as they
were barring the doors, " I forbid you to do it. I did not
come here to resist, but to suffer." Scarcely had he said
the words, when the assassins, who had not found him in
the palace, came rushing through the cloisters, and
entering the church, divided. The primate, meanwhile,
had ascended a few steps towards the choir. " Where is
the traitor Becket?" exclaimed Reginald Fitzurse ; and
as no answer was given: "Where is the archbishop?"
he repeated in a louder tone. Becket turned his head,
and coming down the steps, said ; " Here I am. Regi-
nald, I have done you many kindnesses : and do you
come to me thus armed ?" He seized the primate's robe :

BECKET. 109

" You shall know at once,'' said he. " Get out from
hence, and die." " I will not move ;" replied the primate,
drawing his robe from his hand. " Then fly ;" exclaimed
the knight. "Nor that either;" observed Becket : "but
if it is my blood you want, I am ready to die, that the
Church may obtain liberty and peace ; only, in the name
of God, I forbid you to hurt any of my people."

Reginald retired to give a severer blow ; and being
joined by the other assassins, he struck with all his
might : but Edward Grime, a clerk, interposing his arm,
received the weight of the blow, and the archbishop was
only wounded on the head. "Now strike:" exclaimed
Reginald. Becket bowing his head, in a posture of
prayer: "To God/' said he, "and the patrons of this
place, I commend myself and the Church's cause." They
were his last words. Without a motion or a groan, in the
same devout attitude, with his hands joined, he received
a second stroke, and as the murderers multiplied their
blows, he fell motionless at their feet, "He is dead,"
said they, and went out.

Thus died this extraordinary man, in the fifty-third
year of his age.

The clergy, with many of the inhabitants of Canterbury,
wept over the body that night. They were surprised to
find the habit of a monk and a hair shirt beneath the
splendid robes of the archbishop, who had not pretended
to any peculiar asceticism, even after his elevation to the
primacy.

Becket died a martyr, in the same sense in which
Ridley and Latimer, prelates of the same Church, suffered
martyrdom at a later period ; and perhaps we may add
the name of his successor, Cranmer : though Cranmer
sought to avoid his fate by a recantation, and Becket
preserved his constancy to the end. They were all of
them martyrs for principles which they believed to be
true, and in a cause which they thought to be the cause
of God and the gospel.

Becket contended for a principle, devoted his life to

200 BECON.

maintain it, and willingly died to support it. His prin-
ciple "was to maintain the liberty of the Church : but alas !
while he would contend for the Church's liberty against
the king, he was prepared to deliver her bound hand and
foot to a foreign prince and prelate, the bishop of Rome.
Cranmer, Ridley, and Latimer contended for the Church's
liberty against the pope, but delivered her up a slave to
the state. While they defied the fulminations of the court
of Rome, at a time when they had begun to lose their
terrors, they succumbed to a tyrant like Henry VIII,
armed with despotic powers : Becket opposed with the
spirit of chivalry the tyranny of Henry II, but in ignor-
ance of his episcopal rights, and yielding to the temper of
the age, he appeared as a suppliant in the court of Rome.
By the church of Rome he was canonized, for, though
the primate of the church of England, he was a Romani-
zer, and did much to bring our beloved church under a
foreign yoke.

By his own church since the reformation, his name as
a saint has been erased from the calendar, and certainly
his virtues, though they are not to be denied, were not of
that high class and character which we look for in persons
regarded as saints, while the idolatrous worship paid at
his shrine before the reformation rendered it necessary
for the Church to take steps to prevent the repetition of
it. — Quadrilogus. F it z- Stephen. Ep. D. Thomm. Fronde's
Remains. History of Henry II. by Littleton Berrington.
Bapin. Lingard. Sharon Turner, and Poole.

Becon, Thomas, was born about the year 1511, but
whether Norfolk, Suffolk, or Kent had the honor of
being the place of his birth, his biographers are doubtful,
and he seems not to have known himself. At an early age
he wras sent to St John's college, Cambridge, where he
graduated in 1530. At that time there was a party in
the university anxiously desirous of obtaining a reforma-
tion in our venerable establishment : this reforming party
wras strongly opposed by most of the heads of houses and

BECON. 201

the influential members of the university, but it reckoned
among its numbers many men the most distinguished for
learning and virtue of the day. Becon mentions his
obligations at this time to Latimer and to Stafford, a
fellow at Pembroke hall, and reader in divinity : he
mentions a saying which had passed into a proverb among
the reforming party, " When master Stafford read, and
master Latimer preached, then was Cambridge blessed."
Becon was ordained in 1538; it is probable that his
reforming principles made him an object of suspicion to
the bishops of the church of England, and occasioned the
delay of his ordination until he was twenty-six years of
age. His first preferment was the vicarage of Brensett or
Brenzett, near Romney, in Kent. He was extremely
cautious in his manner of speaking of those doctrines and
ceremonies in which our beloved Church at that period
needed a reformation; so cautious, that he published
under the feigned name of Theodore Basil. Being aware
that Henry VIII was open to flattery, from policy or
attachment, he was lavish in his praises of that tyrannical
prince. But notwithstanding his caution and policy, he
fell under suspicion and was thrown into prison. He had
been long attached to the reforming party, but although
his pen had been ever ready to defend the principles of
the reformation, he did not think it necessary to defend
them by his blood or to die in the cause, and therefore
in 1541 he was brought to St Paul's cross, where he
recanted, revoked his doctrine, and burned his books.
He naturally felt that he could write other books, if by
his recantation he could save his life, and he was willing
to revoke his doctrine that his life might be spared to
benefit the reformation, if better days were to come. His
recantation commenced : " Worshipful audience, for decla-
ration of my penitent heart, and the testifying you my
unfeigned conversion from error to truth, I occupy this
day the place of a penitent praying you to give credit to
that which I shall now say of myself," &c. After his
recantation he retired quietly to the country. His dis-

202 BECON.

cretion on this occasion is vindicated by himself: "When
neither by speaking nor by writing I could do good, I
thought it best, he says in his "Jewel of Joy," not rashly
to throw myself into the paw of these greedy wolves ; but
for a certain season to absent myself from their tyranny,
according to the doctrine of the gospel." It may have
been according to the gospel to flee away from persecu-
tion, but it was " another gospel" to declare publicly his
" unfeigned conversion" from his former opinions, which
he called error, to certain other opinions which he called
truth, when, by so doing he was telling a falsehood. It
appears that if the " greedy wolves" were deceived into a
belief that his conversion was unfeigned, his friends were
soon persuaded that he had only told a falsehood to save
his life ; for on his retiring to the Peak of Derbyshire the
partizans of the reformation rallied round him, and in
the library of Mr Alsop he was pleased to find his own
treatises, published under the name of Basil, and he soon
forgot that he had denounced them and burnt them,
" with a penitent heart," as full of errors. From Derby-
shire he went to Staffordshire and thence to Warwickshire
and Leicestershire, supporting himself by pupils, and
finding pleasure in the society of the reformers. He
published also several treatises, though with his usual
discretion, under a feigned name. Among the works
published at this time was the " Governance of Virtue,"
written, as he expresses himself, "in the bloody, bois-
terous, burning time, when the reading of the holy Bible,
the word of our soul's health, was forbidden the poor lay
people."

On the accession of King Edward VI. the reforming
party was in power, and they gave proof that they consi-
dered Becon's former conversion as merely feigned to save
his life, by obtaining for him the rectory of St Stephen
Walbrook, to which he was instituted in 1547. He was
also chaplain to Dr Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury,
by whom he was appointed one of the six preachers in
Canterbury cathedral. Becon now began to enjoy the

BECON. 203

comforts of life : he married a wife and had several chil-
dren : he was soon after appointed chaplain to the duke
of Somerset, to whom he appears to have been sincerely
attached. It has been supposed by some that he held
also some post in the university of Oxford. He continued
to write, and his treatises at this time were chiefly devo-
tional. He was accustomed at all times to express himself
strongly, and therefore we may hope that his description
of the dreadful effects of the ultra-protestant principles
which were in vogue during the reign of Edward VI. may
be too deeply coloured. If it be only true in part, (and no
one was better able to judge of the truth than Thomas
Becon,) it will in some degree account for the violence
with which the reformers were opposed in the reign of
Mary, when the conservatives in state displaced the re-
formers, and the Romanizers for the last time obtained
ascendancy in our church. In his preface to the "Jewel of
Joy," Becon gives what Strype calls "a clear sight of the
behaviour of these times." What a number of false Chris-
tians," he says, " live there at this present day, unto the
exceeding dishonour of the Christian profession, which with
their mouth confess that they know God, but with their
deeds they utterly deny him, and are abominable, disobe-
dient to the word of God, and utterly estranged from all
good works ? What a swarm of gross gospellers have we
also among us, which can prattle of the gospel very finely,
talk much of the justification of faith, crake very stoutly
of the free remission of all their sins by Christ's blood,
avaunce themselves to be of the number of those, which are
predestinate unto eternal glory? But how far does their
life differ from all true Christianity ? They are puffed up
with all kind of pride : they swell with all kind of envy,
malice, hatred, and enmity against their neighbour, they
burn with unquenchable lusts of carnal concupiscence, they
wallow and tumble in all kind of beastly pleasures ; their
greedy covetous affections are insatiable : the enlarging
of their lordships, the increasing of their substance, the
scraping together of their worldly possessions infinite, and

204 BECON.

knoweth no end. In fine, all their endeavours tend unto
this end, to shew themselves very ethnics, and utterly
estranged from God in their conversation, although in
words they otherwise pretend. As for their alms-deeds,
their praying, their watching, their fasting, and such other
godly exercises of the spirit, they are utterly banished
from these rude and gross gospellers All their religion
consisteth in words and disputations ; in Christian acts
and godly deeds nothing at all."

On the accession of queen Mary, Becon was deprived
of his living as a married priest : he was also accused of
being a seditious preacher, and for preaching sedition was
cast into prison. He probably had advocated the unsuc-
cessful revolution attempted by the reforming party under
the lady Jane Grey. He continued in prison till March
1554. By what means he escaped is not known, but we
are told that " there is no reason to imagine that it was
through any dereliction of his principles :" indeed the
persons in power were not likely to believe him a second
time.

He repaired to Strasburgh : where he published among
other things a letter or treatise to popish priests, called
the "Displaying of the Popish Mass;" while his works
were considered as sufficiently important in England to
be denounced in a proclamation issued in 1555.

Becon returned home with the other reformers when
queen Elizabeth came to the throne. He was restored to
his benefice in London, and to his preachership at Can-
terbury. But he was not advanced to any high station in
the church ; the objection to him probably being that he
was opposed to the principles of the Church. In 1502 he
signed a paper, in conjunction with many other ultra-
protestants, containing propositions for the omission of
the catholic ceremonies still retained in the church of
England. And in 1564 we find him refusing to subscribe
to the ecclesiastical regulations which were put to the
London clergy for their subscription. The clergy were
summoned before the archbishop of Canterbury and the

BECON. 208

bishop of London at Lambeth, when, according to Strype,
the bishop's chancellor spoke thus : " My masters and
the ministers of London, the council's pleasure is, that
strictly ye keep the unity of apparel like to this man,"
pointing to Mr Robert Cole, (a minister likewise of the
city who had refused the habits a while, and now complied,
and stood before them canonically habited,) "as you see
him ; that is a square cap, a scholar's gown priest-like, a
tippet, and in the church a linen surplice : and inviolably
observe the rubric of the Book of Common Prayer, and
the queen's majesty's injunctions ; and the Book of Con-
vocation, [that must be the Thirty-nine Articles.] Ye that
will presently subscribe, write Yolo. Those that will not
subscribe, write Nolo. Be brief; make no words." And
when some would have spoken, the answer was, "Peace,
peace." Apparitor, call "the churches;" [that is, the
names of each parish church ; and each minister to an-
swer when his church was named.] " Masters, answer
presently, sub jmna contemptus; and set your names."
Then the Sumner called first the peculiars of Canter-
bury; then some of Winchester diocese, [viz. such
whose livings were in Southwark ;] and lastly, the London
ministers.

By these resolute doings many of the incumbents were
mightily surprised. And the above mentioned journalist,
who was one of them, thus wrote of it : " Mens hearts
were tempted and tried. Great was the sorrow of most
ministers, and their mourning, saying, We are killed in
the soul of our souls for this pollution of ours ; for that
we cannot perform in the singleness of our hearts this our
ministry."

Strype says that Becon refused at first, but afterwards
subscribed and was preferred, " as were others that did
the like."

He seems to have been noticed by Dr Parker, arch-
bishop of Canterbury, and to have been on friendly terms
with him, as a letter is preserved, in which, after men-

VOL. II. s

306 BECON.

tioning his own donation to his grace, of an ancient
exposition of the Gospels of St Mark and St Luke, he
adds, " My wife, your grace's daily oratrix, hath added
her poor present, that is, a couple of fat capons and six
chickens." This fact, coupled with his not obtaining
higher preferment, at a time when it was difficult to find
a sufficieDt number of respectable men, holding reforma-
tion principles, for the higher offices, inclines us to
suppose that he was known to be too ultra in his pro-
testantism.

His powers as a popular preacher were probably con-
siderable, as one of his Lent sermons at St Paul's cross,
made such an impression on the lord mayor, that his
lordship requested the archbishop of Canterbury that
Becon might be appointed to preach one of the Spital
sermons at the ensuing Easter.

His worldly circumstances were not good, as in several
of his prefaces and dedications he bemoans his poverty ;
he says in his preface to his catechism, written in 1560,
he had " ever been attempted with the cruel assaults of
envious fortune." But the poverty of a pluralist and a
prebendary of Canterbury must only have been compara-
tive. It was not the positive poverty of the primitive
Christians.

Becon died at Canterbury in 1563, having been the
author of tracts almost innumerable in favour of the re-
formation : they are now almost forgotten, but have lately
been reprinted by the Parker Society, a society to which
antiquarians and the collectors of rare books are much
indebted. There is a vigor in his style, and often a fervour
of devotion in his tone, which must have given an interest
and charm to his writings when they were first published ;
and although his works are disfigured by party feeling,
they may be profitably consulted by those who are engaged
in writing popular tracts. — Tanner. Strypes Crammer and
Parker. Luptons Modem Divines. Life prefixed to the
Parker Society's edition of Becon s Works.

BEDE. 207

Bede. ** The venerable Bede" was born about the year
673, in a village on the east coast of Northumberland,
now covered with the sea. He was a pupil of the noble
and learned Benedict Biscop, and studied for some time
in the monastery of Benedictines at Weremouth, of which
his tutor and patron was the founder. From Weremouth
he removed to the monastery of Jarrow, and at the age of
nineteen he was ordained deacon by John of Beverley,
bishop of Hexham. He continued to devote himself to
his studies, which embraced the whole circuit of learned
and polite literature of those days, as well as the pursuits
most becoming his sacred office, until he was thirty years
of age, when he was ordained priest by the same hand
which had admitted him to the diaconate.

The duties of priests are thus described in the canons
of Edgar : —

" They were forbidden to carry any controversy among
themselves to a lay-tribunal : their own companions were
to settle it, or the bishop was to determine it.

" No priest was to forsake the church to which he was
consecrated, nor to intermeddle with the rights of others,
nor to take the scholar of another. He was to learn sedu-
lously his own handicraft, and not put another to shame
for his ignorance, but to teach him better. The high-
born were not to despise the less-bom, nor any to be un-
righteous or covetous dealers. He was to baptize when-
ever required, and to abolish all heathenism and witchcraft.
They were to take care of their churches, and apply ex-
clusively to their sacred duties ; and not to indulge in idle
speech, or idle deeds, or excessive drinking ; nor to let
dogs come within their church-inclosure, nor more swine
than a man might govern.

" They were to celebrate mass only in churches, and on
the altar, unless in cases of extreme sickness. They were
to have at mass their corporalis garment, and the subucula
under their alba ; and all their omciatiug garments were
to be woven. Each was to have a good and right book.
No one was to celebrate mass, unless fasting, and unless

208 BEDE.

he had one to make responses ; nor more than three times
a day; nor unless he had, for the Eucharist, pure bread,
wine and water. The cup was to be of something molten,
not of wood. No woman was to come near the altar
during mass. The bell was to be rung at the proper
time.

" They were to preach every Sunday to the people; and
always to give good examples. They were ordered to teach
youth with care, and to draw them to some craft. They
were to distribute alms, and urge the people to give them,
and to sing the psalms during the distribution, and to
exhort the poor to intercede for the donors. They were
forbidden to swear, and were to avoid ordeals. They were
to recommend confession, penitence, and compensation ;
to administer the sacrament to the sick, and to anoint
him if he desired it ; and the priest was always to keep oil
ready for this purpose and for baptism. He was neither
to hunt, or hawk, or dice ; but to play with his book as
became his condition."

He now began, but not till he had been requested by
the bishop, to apply himself to writing; and his authorship
extended over the same wide field in which he had before
laboured as a student. Astrology, poetry, and rhetoric were
illustrated by his pen ; he wrote comments on parts of the
Holy Scriptures ; and he left behind him an ecclesiastical
history of England, which will be his most honourable
monument, as long as literature has any being. Besides
this, he was much engaged in the instruction of youth, a
task which he fulfilled in a manner nobly attested by the
future eminence of some of his pupils : nor did his hand
cease to labour in those offices which come, from a change
of habits, to be accounted menial, though the prosperity
of the more exemplary religious societies in those days,
partly depended on their being discharged by the honoured
hands of the priests and deacons of their fraternity.

His history Bede undertook at the instance of Ceolwulph,
king of Xorthumbria, a great admirer and patron of
learned men, and of those especially who led a monastic

BEDE. 209

life. After Becle's death, Ceolwulph himself, resigned his
crown, and became a monk at Lindisfarn ; by no means a
solitary instance of such a step in those days, and certainly
not so ignoble a one as some may sneeringly suggest,
There is difficulty enough, and more than enough, in any
state of society, to maintain a consistent Christian course,
when encumbered with the cares, and solicited by the
temptations, of state and splendour : but when princes
were either unworthy of their name or must themselves
be their own ministers in every department ; and when
the whole state of society was so barbarous and irregular as
to make it impossible to hold even the right, without vio-
lence or policy, which might soon degenerate into treachery
and cruelty, a great man might well seek repose and
time for the concerns of his soul, before he was called out
of this world of preparation for a better. It was perhaps a
venial ambition in the monasteries to court such retiring
princes to their walls : at any rate, there the noble recluses
found a rest congenial with their present wishes; and
thence, together with other means, the ecclesiastical bodies
acquired wealth, and a weight of influence which gives a
colour to the rest of the history of the middle ages.

Of the last hours of Bede we have an account by an eye
witness, and nothing can more beautifully attest the truth
of his religion, sanctifying all his labours, and bringing
him peace at the end. From a fortnight before Easter,
until the day of our Lord's accension, he had been troubled
with difficulty of breathing ; but he continued cheerful,
and occupied in his devotions, especially in thanksgiving :
nor did he forget the daily lessons, which he read to his
disciples. The night too was interrupted with his prayers
and hymns, and on Ascension-day singing the Antiphon,
" 0 Glorious King, Lord of power, who, triumphing on
this day, didst ascend above all the heavens, forsake not
us orphans ; but send clown upon us the promised Spirit
of Truth," at the words forsake us not, he and all with
him burst into tears. He was still engaged at such in-

s 2

210 BEDE.

tervals as he could command in dictating a translation
into the vernacular tongue of the gospel according to St
John. " Dear master," said his attendant, when he was
just ready to depart, " there is yet one sentence not writ-
ten." This he dictated, and said "It is ended. Support
my head on your hands, that I may sit facing the holy
place where I was wont to pray, and to sing ' Glory be to
the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost;"' when
he had named the Holy Ghost his spirit took its flight,
and all who beheld him die, said that they had never
before seen such devotion and tranquillity.

His death took place on Ascension-day, in the year of
grace 735, and he was buried by the brethren of his house,
in the south porch of the church of Jarrow. He was long
reverenced as a saint, nor will the true Christian refuse
him that most noble title to this day. In such men is
the real strength of the Church, though this strength may
be visibly wielded by such men as his contemporary
Wilfred.

Of the ecclesiastical history of Bede, it will be enough
to say, that he had to write of times into the annals of
which it is scarcely possible to infuse much interest, yet
the evident predominance of one feeling in his own heart,
irresistibly leads the heart of his reader with him ; and
amidst all the incoherency and disjointedness of his inci-
dent, which is the fault of his times, there is an admirable
unity of thought and design, which is his own peculiar
merit. He is every where the Christian and the ecclesi-
astical historian. His work is the chief authority for the
events of the preceding times, and where his task is closed,
there history assumes a darker and more uninviting aspect
for many generations.

The homilies of Bede were in such repute that they
were read in the churches even during his life, and he
takes his place among the very best expositors of Holy
Writ, in that or any age. His name is inserted in the
calendar on the :27th of May, which day the church

BEDELL. 311

of England appoints to be dedicated to his memory,
even to the present time. Numberless reasons have
been assigned why the epithet venerable should have
so inseparably been attached to Bede. It was probably
given to him by his contemporaries in his old age, from
the peculiar dignity of his manners. The legendary
tales relating to the origin of the title are amusing :

We are told that when he grew old, and was through
age blind, one of his disciples carried him abroad to a
place where there lay a great heap of stones, and told
him he was surrounded by a great crowd of people, who
waited with silence and attention to receive his spiritual
consolation. The old man accordingly made a long dis-
course, which he concluded with a prayer, and the stones
very punctually made their response, " Amen, venerable
Bede."

Another story relating to this title, and no less to be
credited than the first, is thus reported. A young man a
monk studying for an epitaph for Bede got thus far,

Hac sunt in fossa BEDiE ossa.

His head not being well turned for poetry, he could find
no words to fill up this hiatus ; and after tormenting him-
self to no purpose, he fell asleep : . but the next morning
returning to his task, with infinite astonishment he found
the line completed thus, by some invisible hand.
Hac sunt in fossa Bedae venerabilis ossa.

Cave. Bedes Works, edit, by Giles.

Bedell, William, was born in 1570 at Black Xotleyin
the county of Essex. In 1592, he was chosen fellow7 of
Emmanuel college, Cambridge, and took his degree of
B D. in 1599. On leaving the university he was pre-
sented to the living of St Edmondsbury in Suffolk, where
he remained till the year 1604, when he was appointed
by Sir Henry Wotton, at that time ambassador to the
republic of Venice, to be his chaplain. At Venice he
remained for eight years, and formed the friendship of
father Paul Sarpi.

112 BEDELL.

Pope Paul the Fifth had at this time placed the
republic of Venice under an interdict, and the Venetian
senate had taken steps to prevent the execution of the
interdict by an act prohibiting the cessation of public
worship and the suspension of the Sacraments. The
Jesuits and Capuchin friars, for obeying the orders of
the pope, had been banished from the Venetian ter-
ritories ; and the ablest pens, particularly that of Paul
Sarpi, were employed to determine, after an accurate and
impartial inquiry, the true limits of the Ptoman pontiff's
jurisdiction and authority. This movement, which threat-
ened a separation of the church of Venice from the church
of Rome, was viewed with interest by many members of
the church of England, but by none more than by Bedell.
He translated into Italian the English Prayer Book,
which was so favourably received by the seven divines,
appointed by the republic to preach against the pope,
that they were determined to take it as a model for their
own, had they been able to establish the independence
of their church.

Bedell at this time became acquainted also with the
celebrated Antonio de Dominis, archbishop of Spalato,
whom he assisted by correcting his well known book, " De
Republica Ecclesiastica."

On his return to England he brought with him the
manuscript of father Pauls history of the interdict and
inquisition, his history of the council of Trent, and a large
collection of letters on the controversy in which Paul bore
so conspicuous a part; and retiring to his cure at St
Edmondsbury, he there employed himself in translating
portions of them into latin. Here he married the widow
of the recorder of the town. In 1615 he was presented
to the living of Horningsheath, and in 1627 he was unani-
mously elected provost of Trinity college, Dublin : after
remaining in this post for two years, by the interest of
Laud, then bishop of London, and Sir Thomas Jermyn,
he was nominated to the sees of Kilmore and Ardagh,
being then in his fifty-ninth year.

BEDELL. 213

He found the church of Ireland in great disorder, and
applied himself with vigour to reform the abuses in his
own dioceses. He began with that of plurality of bene-
fices. To this end he convened his clergy, and, in a
sermon, laid before them the institution, nature, and
duties of the ministerial employment, froin the Scriptures
and the fathers, and after sermon, discoursed to them
upon the same subject in latin, and exhorted them to
reform that abuse. To prevail on them the better, he
told them he resolved to shew them an example in parting
with one of his bishoprics, and he accordingly resigned
Ardagh. He made several regulations with respect to
residence, was extremely watchful of the conduct of the
clergy, and no less circumspect in his own behaviour. His
ordinations were public and solemn. He preached and ad-
ministered the Holy Sacrament on such occasions himself.
He never ordained any person to priests orders till a year
after his having been made deacon, that he might know
how he had behaved during that time. He wrote certifi-
cates of ordination and other instruments with his own
hand, and suffered none who received them to pay any
fees. When he had brought things to such a length, that
his clergy were willing to assist him in the great work of
reformation, he convened a synod in September, 1638, in
which he made many canons which are still extant. There
were some who regarded this synod as an illegal assembly,
and thought that his presuming to make canons was
against law, so that there was some talk of bringing him
before the star-chamber, or high-commission court ; but
his archdeacon, afterwards archbishop of Cashel, gave such
an account of the matter as satisfied the state. Arch-
bishop Usher said on this occasion to those who were very
earnest for bringing him to answer for his conduct, You
had better let him alone, lest, if when provoked, he
should say much more for himself, than any of his accu-
sers can say against him. Bedell having observed that
the ecclesiastical court in his diocese was a great abuse,
being governed by a lay chancellor who had bought the

214 BEDELL.

place from his predecessor, and for that reason thought he
had a right to all the profits he could raise : removed the
chancellor, and resuming the jurisdiction of a bishop, sat
in his own courts and heard causes with a select number
of his clergy, by whose advice he gave sentence. The
chancellor upon this brought a suit against the bishop
into chancery, for invading his office. Bolton, the lord
chancellor of Ireland, confirmed the chancellors right,
and gave him a hundred pounds costs against the bishop;
and when Bedell asked him how he could give such an
unjust decree, he answered, that all his father had left
him was a register's place, and therefore he thought he
was bound to support those courts, which must be ruined
if some check was not given to the bishop's proceedings.
The chancellor, however, gave him no further disturbance,
nor did he ever call for his costs, but named a surrogate,
with orders to obey the bishop. Bishop Bedell was no per-
secutor of papists, nor did he approve of those who made
use of harsh expressions against popery. In an extract of
one of Bedell's sermons given us by bishop Burnet, we
meet with the following passage : "It is not the storm of
words, but the strength of reasons, that shall stay a waver-
ing judgment from errors, &c; when that like a tempest is
overblown, the tide of others' examples will carry other
men to do as the most do ; but these like so many anchors
will stick, and not come again. Besides our calling is to
deal with errors, not to disgrace the man with scolding
words. It is said of Alexander, I think, when he overheard
one of his soldiers railing lustily on Darius his enemy,
he reproved him, and added, Friend, I entertain thee to
fight against Darius, not to revile him. Truly it may be
well thought that those that take this course shall find but
small thanks at Christ's our captain's hands, and it is not
unlike but he would say to them, were he here on earth
again ; ' Masters, I would you should refute popery and
set yourselves against antichrist my enemy, with all the
discoloured sects and heresies, that fight under his banner
against me, and not call him and his troops all to nought !'

BEDELL. 215

And this is my poor opinion concerning our dealing with
the papists themselves, perchance differing from men of
great note in Christ's family, Mr Luther, and Mr Calvin.
and others ; but yet we must live by rules, not examples ;
and they were men, who perhaps by complexion or other-
wise were given too much to anger and heat." He la-
boured to convert the more respectable of the popish
clergy, and in this he had great success. He procured a
translation of the Common Prayer into Irish, and caused
it to be read in his cathedral every Sunday. The new
testament had also been translated by William Daniel,
archbishop of Tuam, and at the bishop s desire, the old
testament was first translated into the same language by
Mr King; but as King was ignorant of the original tongue,
and did it from the English, Bedell himself revised and
compared it with the Hebrew, and the best translations.
He took care likewise to have some of St Chrysostom's
and Leo's homilies in commendation of the Scriptures,
translated both into English and into Irish, that the
common people might see, that in the opinion of the
ancient fathers, they had not only a right to read the
Scriptures as well as the clergy, but that it was their duty
so to do. When he found the work was finished, he re-
solved to be at the expense of printing it, but his design
was interrupted by a cruel and unjust prosecution carried
on against the translator, who not only lost his living, but
was also attacked in his character. The bishop supported
Mr King as far as he was able, and the translation being
finished, he would have had it printed in his own house,
if the troubles of Ireland had not prevented it ; it hap-
pened fortunately, however, that the translation escaped
the hands of the rebels, and was afterwards printed at
the expense of Mr Robert Boyle. The bishop always
desired to make proselytes by persuasion, and not compul-
sion ; and it was his opinion, that protestants would agree
better, if they could be brought to understand each other.
There were some Lutherans at Dublin, who, for not coming
to church and taking the Holy Sacrament, were cited into

216 BEDELL.

the archbishop's consistory, upon which they desired time
to write to their divines in Germany, which was granted ;
and when their answers came, they contained some excep-
tions to the doctrines of the Church, as not explaining the
real presence of Christ in the Eucharist, with sufficient
accuracy : to which bishop Bedell wrote an answer, and
the German theologians, who saw it, advised their coun-
trymen to join in communion with the Church, which they
accordingly did.

When the rebellion broke out in Ireland, in October,
1641, the bishop at first did not feel the violence of
its effects, for even the rebels and dissenters had con-
ceived a great veneration for him, and they declared
he should be the last Englishman they would drive
out of Ireland. His was the only house in the county
of Cavan that was unviolated, and it was filled with
the people who fled to him for shelter. About the
middle of December, however, the rebels, pursuant
to orders received from their council of state at Kil-
kenny, required him to dismiss the people that were
with him, which he refused to do, declaring he would
share the same fate with the rest. Upon this they seized
him, his two sons, and Mr Clogy, who had married his
daughter-in-law, and carried them prisoners to the castle
of Cloughboughter, surrounded by a deep water, where
they put them all, except the bishop, in irons ; the bishop,
however, ceased not to give spiritual consolation to those
with him, and on Christmas-day administered the Holy
Communion to them in prison. After being confined for
about three weeks, the bishop and his two sons, and Mr
Clogy, were exchanged for two of the O'Rourkes; but though
it was agreed that they should be safely conducted to
Dublin, yet the rebels would not suffer them to be carried
out of the country, but sent them to the house of Denis
O'Sheriden. The bishop died soon after he came here,
on the 7th of February, 1611, his death being chiefly
occasioned by his late imprisonment and the weight of
sorrows which lay upon his mind. Nearly all his writings

BEDFORD. 217

perished in the rebellion. In 1713 there was printed a
poem written by him in the style of Spenser, entitled, A
Protestant Memorial, or the Shepherd's Tale of the Powder
Plot. It was printed from a manuscript found in the
library of Dr Dillingham; and in 1742 there were pub-
lished at Dublin some original letters concerning the steps
taken towards a reformation of religion in Venice, on the
quarrel between that state and pope Paul the Fifth. —
Burnet's Life of Bedell. Boyle s Works.

Bedford, Arthur, was born at Tiddenham in Glou-
cestershire, in 1668. At the age of sixteen he became a
commoner of Brazenose-college, Oxford, where he took his
masters degree in 1691. The year following he was pre-
sented to the vicarage of Temple Church, Bristol, from
whence some years afterwards he removed to Newton St
Loe in Somersetshire ; but in 1724 he was chosen chaplain
to the Haberdasher's Hospital, London, where he died in
1745. His works are — 1. Serious Pieflections on the abuse
of the Stage, 8vo. This was followed by some other tracts
on the same subject. 2. The Temple of Music, 8vo. 3.
The great Abuse of Music, 8vo. 4. An Essay on singing
David's Psalms, 8vo. 5. Animadversions on Sir Isaac
Newton's Chronology, 8vo. 1728. 6. A Sermon at St
Botolph's, Aldgate, against Stage-plays, 1730, 8vo. 7. Ob-
servations on a Sermon preached by the Rev. A. S. Catcott,
before the Corporation of Bristol, 8vo. 1736. 8. An Ex-
amination of Mr Hutchinson's Remarks, and Mr Catcott's
Answer to the Observations, &c. 8vo. 1738. 9. Scripture
Chronology, folio, 1741. 10. Eight Sermons on the Doc-
trine of the Trinity, at Lady Mover's Lecture, 8vo. 1740.
11. The Doctrine of Justification by Faith stated, 8vo,
1741. 12. Hora3 Mathematics vacuas, or a Treatise on
the Golden and Ecliptic Numbers, 8vo. 1743. — Ellis 's
Hist, of Shoreditch. Republic of Letters.

Bedford, Hilkiah, was born in London in 1663, and

VOL. IT. t

ns BEHMEX

educated at St John's college, Cambridge, on the foun-
dation of Mr Plat, his maternal grandfather. He after-
wards obtained a fellowship, took his degree in arts,
and, on taking orders, was presented to a living in
Lincolnshire, of which he was deprived at the Revo-
lution for refusing to take the oaths of allegiance to
the prince of Orange, when he had the honour of be-
coming chaplain to bishop Ken. He then kept a board-
ing-house for the Westminster scholars ; but in 1714
he was sentenced to three years' imprisonment and a
heavy fine for publishing the Hereditary Right of the
Crown of England asserted, the real author of which was
George Harbin. Mr Bedford translated an answer to
Fontenelle's History of Oracles, and Dr Barwick s Life,
into English. He died in 1734. — Nichols's Literary Anec-
dotes. Coles MSS. Athena in Brit. Mus.

Bedford, Thomas, the son of Hilkiah Bedford, was
educated at Westminster school, from whence he removed
to St John's college, Cambridge, but never took any
degree on account of his attachment to the nonjurors,
among whom he exercised the ministry at Compton in
Derbyshire, where he died in 1773. He was at one time
chaplain in the family of Sir John Cotton, Bart., with
whom he sojourned at Angers in France. He published,
in 1732, Simeonis monachi Dunelmensis libellus de
exordio atque procursu Dunelmensis ecclesise, 8vo. He
also wrote an historical Catechism, 8vo. 1712. — Nichols's
Life of Bomjer.

Behmen, or Bozhmen, Jacob, designated by his admirers
as the German theosophist, was born near Gorlitz, in Upper
Lusatia, in 1575. He was a shoemaker by trade, and being
of a serious turn of mind, employed his leisure hours in
reading religious books, besides which he studied alchemy.
In 1612 he published a treatise entitled " Aurora ; or, The
Rising of the Sun," which gave such offence to George

BEHMEN. 210

Richter, dean of Gorlitz, that he complained of it to the
magistrates, who commanded Jacob to leave off writing,
and stick to his last. He obeyed, and was silent for seven
years, when his reputation as a practical chemist gave him
encouragement to renew his theological revelations, and
during the remaining five years of his life he wrote above
twenty books, the best of which was "A Table of his
Principles ; or, A Key to his Works." Of Behmen, the
following is the account given by Mosheim : " He had a
natural propensity towards the investigation of mysteries,
and was fond of abstruse and intricate inquiries of every
kind ; and having, partly by books and partly by conversa-
tion with certain physicians, acquired some knowledge of
the doctrine of Robert Fludd and the Pcosicracians, which
was propagated in Germany with great ostentation during
this century, he struck out of the element of fire, by the
succours of imagination, a species of theology much more
obscure than the numbers of Pythagoras, or the intricacies
of Heraclitus. Some have bestowed high praises on this
enthusiast, on account of his piety, integrity, and sincere
love of truth and virtue ; and we shall not pretend to con-
tradict these encomiums. But such as carry their admi-
ration of his doctrine so far as to honour him with the
character of an inspired messenger of heaven, or even of
a judicious and wise philosopher, must be themselves
deceived and blinded in a very high degree ; for never did
there reign such obscurity and confusion in the writings
of any mortal, as in the miserable productions of Jacob
Behmen, which exhibit a motley mixture of chemical
terms, crude visions, and mystic jargon. Among other
dreams of a disturbed and eccentric fancy, he entertained
the following chimerical notions : ' That the divine grace
operates by the same rules, and follows the same methods,
that the divine providence observes in the natural world :
and that the minds of men are purged from their vices and
corruptions in the same way that metals are purified from
their dross ;' and this maxim was the principle of his fire
theology. He died at Gorlitz, in 1623. His works were

220 BELL.

printed at Amsterdam in 1730, under the title of Theo-so-
phia Revelata. Whatever may have been the errors and
eccentricities of Behmen's genius, there must be more of
depth in his system than his opponents seem willing to
admit, since it was able to bring into captivity such a
mind as that of William Law, who employed the last
years of his life in preparing a new edition, with a trans-
lation, of Behmen's works, which appeared after his death
in two vols 4to. According to Dr Henry More the sect of
the quakers have borrowed many of their doctrines from
Behmen. — Life by Okeley. Mosheim.

Bell, William, was Educated at Magdalen college,
Cambridge, at which university he obtained several prizes.
He is entitled to the grateful regard of his alma mater
for having established eight scholarships for the orphan
sons of poor clergymen. Before his demise he had trans-
ferred £15,200, in the three per cents to the university
for this object. His other charities were very considerable.
He died in 1816 a prebendary of Westminster. He pub-
lished some works, but they were of little value, and are
now forgotten. — Gentlemen s Magazine.

Bell, Andrew, was born at St Andrews in 1753, and
in 1789 became chaplain to Fort St George, at Madras.
He there introduced a system of education relating to the
management of classes, which was subsequently adopted
in the National Society for the education of the poor. It
has been much modified, but is very far still from being
what religious persons would desire. A dissenter, named
Lancaster, contended with Dr Bell for the honour of
having originated the plan ; but the general current of
opinion, as well as documentary evidence, awards the
honour, such as it is, of its introduction, to Dr Bell.
Dr Bell was a prebendary of Westminster, and master of
Sherborn hospital, Durham. He died in 1832. He had
amassed an immense fortune, and left £120,000 in sup-

BELLARMINE. 221

port of national institutions and public charities. — Annual
Biography.

Bellarmine, Robert, was born at Monte-Puluano in
Tuscany, October 4th, 154-2; his mother was sister to pope
Marcellus II. He became a Jesuit in 1560, at the period
when the members of that order were exerting themselves
to the utmost to paralyze the reformation ; and his con-
nection with that order gave the direction to his extra-
ordinary controversial talents. Such was the lead which
he took as a controversialist, that it was at him especially
that the most eminent protestant polemics directed their
attacks ; and by so doing they proclaimed him to be what
the more timid or more violent of his own communion
were slow to admit, the most able and judicious advocate
of the Romish cause. Although his prejudices as a Ro-
manist frequently obscured his vision of the truth, yet his
candour is admitted by all parties : — by papists, who com-
plained that he exposed their weak points ; and by protest-
ants, who insinuated that he must in secret have inclined
to their own opinions. His treatise de Romano Pontifico
was condemned by pope Sextus V. as injurious to the
Roman see, because he referred the papal authority to an
indirect rather than a direct grant of Christ; and yet;
though falling under the censure of the more violent parti*
zans o.v" papal pretensions, his assertions with respect to
papal power were regarded in France as ultra-montane?
and his treatise against Barclay was condemned in L610
by the parliament of Paris. Under the assumed name of
Matthew Tortus he attacked king James ; when he found
in bishop Andrewes, who came forward to vindicate the
king, an opponent very different from those with whom
he had usually to contend, and he must have learned
from him that there is a catholic via media between
Romanism on the one hand and mere protestantism on
the other.

But Bellarmine was not merely a controversialist ; he
t 2

aaa bellarmine.

was distinguished also for his eloquence as a preacher, and
indeed such were his powers in this respect, that he re-
ceived a license to preach, before he had arrived at the
canonical age. Having exerted himself as a preacher in
Italy, he proceeded afterwards to Flanders, and in 1569
was ordained priest at Ghent, by the celebrated Cornelius
Jansen ; in the year following he had the honour of being
the first Jesuit who had ever been appointed professor of
theology in the university of Louvain. Here his lectures
were attended, and his sermons admired not only by
Romanists, but even by protestants.

After having lived seven years in the Low Countries, he
returned to Italy, and in 1576, began to read lectures at
Rome on points of controversy. This he did with so much
applause, that Sixtus V. appointed him to accompany his
legate into France, in 1590, as a person who might be of
great service, in case of any demand for controversial eru-
dition. He returned to Rome about ten months after,
where he had several offices conferred on him by his own
society as well as by the pope, and in the year 1599, was
created a cardinal. Three years after he had the arch-
bishopric of Capua conferred upon him, which he resigned
in 1605, when the pope, Paul V. desired to keep him near
his person, his conscience not permitting him to keep a
church upon which he could not reside. He was employed
in the affairs of the court of Rome, till the year 1621,
when, finding himself declining in health, he left the
Vatican, and retired to the house belonging to the noviciate
of the Jesuits of St Andrew, where he died the 17th of
September, 1621. It appeared on the day of his funeral,
that he was regarded as a saint. The Swiss guards be-
longing to the pope, were placed round his coffin, in order
to keep off the crowd, which pressed to touch and kiss the
body : and every thing he made use of was carried away,
as a venerable relic.

At the end of the century it was proposed in the court
of Rome to canonize him, and informations were taken

BENEDICT. 223

according to custom to make proof of his sanctity ; which
having been reported to the congregration of cardinals
and consultors on the 7th of July, 1677, of seventeen
cardinals, ten voted for his canonization, while the rest
thought the proofs insufficient, and of nineteen consultors,
sixteen were for his beatification, and three of a contrary
opinion.

Such a proceeding is justly offensive to those who hold
Catholic as distinguished from Romish principles. — Dupin.
Moreri. Butler. Alegambe BibUoth. Script. Soc.

Belsham, Thomas, was born in 1750, at Bedford, where
his father was a dissenting preacher of the presbyterian
persuasion. From Calvinism Belsham passed on to
socinianism. He contended resolutely for the principle
that the Bible and the Bible only, interpreted according to
each man's private judgment, is the religion of protestants;
and according to his private judgment, the Bible taught
what he called unitarianism. He was elected in 1794 by
a congregation at Hackney, to preach to them, and he con-
tinued to be their preacher till 1805, when he went to the
meeting-house in Essex-street, London. He died in 1829.
He was principally concerned in what his party called the
improved version of the New Testament, which was pub-
lished in 1808 ; a work prepared by persons so deficient
in scholarship, as to have been discreditable to the society
under whose auspices it was published. Among those
who maintained the right of private judgment, as among
the " unitarians" generally, Belsham held during the end
of the last, and the beginning of the present century, a
distinguished place. — Annual Biog.

Benedict, Saint, was born in 480, in the duchy of
Spoleto, and was educated at Rome. Disgusted by the
dissipation of his fellow students at Rome, he retired to the
desert of Subiaco, about forty miles from that city, where,
concealed in a cave, he was supplied with food by a hermit
named Romanus, who used to descend to him by a rope.

224 BENEDICT.

This life he pursued for three years, during which time
he employed himself in giving instructions to the shep-
herds who frequented the neighbourhood, and at length
was chosen by the monks of a neighbouring monastery to
be their abbot. Here his severity and asceticism caused
such dissatisfaction, that it is said that the monks attempt-
ed to poison him ; indeed the Romish legends assert that
he was only saved by a miracle. At all events, he thought
fit to retire from his post, and on returning to his solitude,
was followed by many persons, who placed themselves
under his direction, and in a short time he was able to
erect twelve monasteries, each containing twelve monks,
and all being under his direction. The monasteries of
the west had adopted a very lax rule, and Benedict was
determined to introduce a strict one. But he met with
much opposition from a faction headed by a neighbouring
clergyman. In all ages the attempt to lead a strict and
ascetic life has been met by the fierce opposition of those
who think themselves injured if others endeavour to lead
a more evangelical life than they : and such was the
opposition to which Benedict was exposed, that in 528 he
and his monks were obliged to remove from Subiaco. He
retired to Monte Cassino, where idolatry still prevailed,
and a temple stood to Apollo. He converted the people,
destroyed the image of Apollo, and erected two chapels on
the mountain. Here also he founded a monastery, which
became the model for all the monasteries of Western
Europe. It was here too that he composed his " Regula
Monachorum,"' of which Gregory the great, speaks in
terms of high approbation. We are indebted to Mr Mait-
land for the following translation of the prologue and the
fourth chapter : —

" Hear, 0 my son, the precepts of a master; and incline
the ear of thine heart ; and cheerfully receive, and affec-
tually fulfil, the admonition of an affectionate father ; that,
by the labour of obedience, thou mayest return to him,
from whom thou hast departed by the sloth of disobedi-
ence. To thee therefore my discourse is now directed —

BENEDICT. 225

whosoever, renouncing the desires of self, and about to
serve as a soldier of the Lord Christ, the true King,
dost assume the most powerful and noble arms of
obedience.

" In the first place, you must, with most urgent prayer,
entreat that whatsoever good thing you take in hand, may
thr ugh Him be brought to completion ; that He who hath
condescended now to reckon us in the number of His
sons, may not be obliged to grieve over our ill conduct.
For He is ever to be served by us, with those good things
which are His own; so served by us as that not only He
may not, as an angry father, disinherit his sons, — but
that He may not, as a master who is to be feared, be so
incensed by our sins, as to deliver over to eternal punish-
ment, as most wicked servants, those who would not follow
Him to glory.

" Let us, however, at length arise ; for the Scripture
arouses us, saying, ' That now it is high time to awake
out of sleep;' and, our eyes being opened to the divine
light, let us hear with astonished ears the voice which
every day admonishes us, ' To day if ye will hear his
voice, harden not your hearts ;' and again, ■ He that hath
ears to hear, let him hear what the Spirit saith to the
churches;' and what saith He? 'Come, ye children,
hearken unto me : I will teach you the fear of the Lord' —
' Run while ye have the light of life, lest the darkness of
death overtake you.'

•• And the Lord, seeking for his workman among the
multitude of the people, whom He thus addresses, saith
again, { What man is he that desireth life, and will see
good days'?' And if when you hear this you answer ' I,'
God saith unto you, ' If thou wilt have life, keep thy
tongue from evil, and thy lips that they speak no guile.
Depart from evil, and do good ; seek peace and pursue it.'
And when you shall have done this, ' My eyes are upon
you, and My ears are towards your prayers ; and before ye
call upon Me I will say ur.to you ' Here am I.' " Most
dear brethren, what is sweeter than this voice of the Lord

'226 BENEDICT.

inviting us ? Behold, in His mercy, the Lord points out
to us the way of life.

" Our loins therefore being girded, and our feet shod
with faith and the observance of good works, let us, under
the guidance of the gospel, go forth on His ways, that we
may be counted worthy to see Him who hath called us, in
His kingdom. In the tabernacle of Whose kingdom, if we
desire to dwell, we can by no means attain our desire,
except by running in the way of good works. But let us
inquire of the Lord with the prophet, and say unto Him,
1 Lord, who shall dwell in Thy tabernacle, and who shall
rest in Thy holy mountain ? After this inquiry, brethren,
let us hear the Lord replying, and shewing us the way of
His tabernacle, and saying, ' He that walketh uprightly,
and worketh righteousness, and speaketh the truth in his
heart ; he that backbiteth not with his tongue, nor doeth
evil to his neighbour, nor taketh up a reproach against his
neighbour.' Who turning away the eyes of his heart from
the wicked Devil who tempts him, and from his tempta-
tion, hath brought him to nought, and hath taken the
young thoughts which he hath bred and dashed them to
pieces on Christ. Who, fearing the Lord, are not puffed
up by their good works ; but who, considering that those
good things which are in them could not be wrought by
themselves, but by the Lord, magnify the Lord who work-
eth in them, saying with the prophet, ' Not unto us, O
Lord, not unto us, but unto Thy name give glory.' Like
as the apostle Paul reckoned nothing of his preaching,
saying, ' By the grace of God I am what I am ;' and
again he says, 5 He that glorifieth let him glory in the
Lord.'

" Hence also it is, that our Lord saith in the gospel,
• Whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth
them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his
house upon a rock : and the floods came, and the winds
blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell not; for it was
founded upon a rock.' While the Lord does all this, He
expects every day that we should respond to His holy

BENEDICT. 227

admonitions, by our actions. Therefore it is, that the
days of this life are extended as a respite for the emenda-
tion of what is evil ; as the apostle says, ' Knowest thou
not that the long suffering of God leadeth thee to repent-
ance?' For the merciful God hath said, "I desire not
the death of a sinner, but that he should be converted
and live.'

" When therefore, my brethren, we inquire of the Lord,
' who shall abide in Thy tabernacle ?' we thus hear the
rule of habitation ; and if we fulfil the duty of an inhabit-
ant, we shall be heirs of the kingdom of heaven. There-
fore our hearts and bodies are to be prepared to go forth
to"the warfare of holy obedience to the commandments ;
and, because it is impossible to our nature, let us ask the
Lord of His grace that He would assist us with His help.
And if, flying from the pains of hell, we desire to obtain
eternal life, while yet there is opportunity and we are in
this body, and space is afforded to fulfil all these things
by this life of light, we must now run and labour for that
which shall profit us for ever.

" We must, therefore, institute a school of service to the
Lord ; in which institution we trust that we shall appoint
nothing harsh or burdensome. If, however, anything a
little severe should, on reasonable grounds of equity, be
enjoined for the correction of vices, and the preservation
of charity, do not in sudden alarm fly from the way of
safety, which can only be begun by a narrow entrance.
In the progress, however, of our conversation and faith,
the heart being enlarged with the ineffable sweetness of
love, we run the way of God's commandments, so that
never departing from His governance, remaining under His
teaching in the monastery until death, we through patience
are partakers of Christ's sufferings, that we may be counted
worthy to be partakers of His kingdom."

The first chapter of the rule is on various kinds of
monks — the second, on the qualifications and duties of
an abbot — the third, on the duty of the abbot to take
counsel with the brethren — and the fourth is headed,

228 BENEDICT.

" Quae sint instrumenta bonomm operum." This title
has given some trouble to commentators ; and the reader
may translate it as he pleases. " It is not my business,"
says Mr Maitland, "to criticise it, especially as the chapter
itself is intelligible enough. It contains seventy-two brief
injunctions, from whence we may form some general
opinion as to what those who bound themselves by this
rule did, and did not, undertake. Most of the other
seventy- two chapters of the rule consist of regulations
respecting the organization and management of their
society, which would, of course, occupy the most room ;
but it seems to me that this one chapter should at least
qualify the statements of those who profess to have found
nothing but a body of heartless forms.

" 1. In the first place, to love the Lord God with the
whole heart, whole soul, whole strength. 2. Then his
neighbour as himself. 3. Then not to kill. 4. Then not
to commit adultery. 5, Not to steal. 6. Not to covet.
7. Not to bear false witness. 8. To honour all men.
9. And what any one would not have done to him, let him
not do to another. 10. To deny himself, that he may fol-
low Christ. 11. To chasten the body. 12. To renounce
luxuries. 13. To love fasting. 14. To relieve the poor.
15. To clothe the naked. 16. To visit the sick. 17. To
bury the dead. 18. To help in tribulation. 19. To con-
sole the afflicted. 20. To disengage himself from worldly
affairs. 21. To set the love of Christ before all other
things. 22. Not to give way to anger. 23. Not to bear
any grudge. 24. Not to harbour deceit in the heart.
25. Not to make false peace. 26. Not to forsake charity.
27. Not to swear, lest haply he perjure himself. 28. To
utter truth from his heart and his mouth. 29. Not to
return evil for evil. 30. Not to do injuries; and to bear
them patiently. 31. To love his enemies. 32. Not to
curse again those who curse him ; but rather to bless
them. 33. To endure persecutions for righteousness' sake.
34. Not to be proud. 35. Not given to wine. 36. Not
gluttonous. 37. Not addicted to sleep. 38. Not sluggish.

BENEDICT. 229

39. Not given to murmur. 40. Not a slanderer. 41. To
commit his hope to God. 4 2. When he sees any thing
good in himself, to attribute it to God, and not to himsel f.
43. But let him always know, that which is evil in his
own doing, and impute it to himself. 44. To fear the day
of judgment. 45. To dread Hell. 46. To desire eternal
life, with all spiritual longing. 47. To have the expecta-
tion of death every day before his eyes. 48. To watch
over his actions at all times. 49. To know certainly that,
in all places, the eye of God is upon him. 50. Those evil
thoughts which come into his heart immediately to dash
to pieces on Christ. 51. And to make them known to his
spiritual senior. 5 '2. To keep his lips from evil and
wicked discourse. 53. Not to be fond of much talking.

54. Not to speak vain words, or such as provoke laughter.

55. Not to love much or violent laughter. 56. To give
willing attention to the sacred readings. 57. To pray
frequently. 58. Every day to confess his past sins to
God, in prayer, with tears and groaning ; from thence-
forward to reform as to those sins. 59. Not to fulfil the
desires of the flesh ; to hate self-will. 60. In all things to
obey the commands of the abbot, even though he himself
(which God forbid) should do otherwise ; remembering our
Lord's command, ' What they say, do ; but what they do,
do ye not.' 61. Not to desire to be called a saint before
he is one, but first to be one that he may be truly called
one. 62. Every day to fulfil the commands of God in
action. 63. To love chastity. 64. To hate nobody.
65. To have no jealousy; to indulge no envy. 66. Not
to love contention. 67. To avoid self-conceit. 68. To
reverence seniors. 69. To love juniors. 70. To pray for
enemies, in the love of Christ. 71. After a disagreement,
to be reconciled before the going down of the sun.
72. And never to despair of the mercy of God."

These rules have given rise to many disputes among the
disciples of St Benedict, which are of no interest to the
general reader or ordinary Christian.

VOL. II. u

•230 BENEDICT BISCOP.

The date of his death is differently given by ancient
writers : by some it is placed as early as 542, by others as
late as 547. — Mabillon. Moreri. Fosbrook. Maitland.

Benedict, Biscop, was born about the year 628, being
descended frem a noble lineage of the Angles, and as Bede
pleasantly remarks, "being by corresponding dignity of
mind worthy to be exalted into the company of angels.''''
This article will be taken entirely from venerable Bede's
Vita Beatorum Abbatum Bede informs us that Benedict
Biscop was the minister of Oswy king of Northumbria,
and by his gift enjoyed an estate suitable to his rank ;
but at the age of twenty-five, he relinquished a secular
life and made a journey to Rome, the capital at that
time of the civilized world. On his return home he
exerted himself to establish among his own countrymen
the precepts of ecclesiastical life, which he had seen and
admired in Italy. In 665 he made a second journey to
Rome, and after some months went to the island of Lerins,
where he became an inmate of the monastery, and was
regularly initiated into all the requirements of conventual
life. From Lerins he once more returned to Rome, which
he reached at an important juncture : " at that time," says
the venerable Bede, " Egbert, king of Kent, had sent out of
Britain a man who had been elected to the office of bishop,
Wighard by name, who had been adequately taught by the
Roman disciples of the blessed pope Gregory in Kent on
every topic of Church discipline ; but the king wished him
to be ordained bishop at Rome, in order that, having him
for bishop of his own nation and language, he might him-
self, as well as his people, be the more thoroughly master
of the words and mysteries of the holy faith ; as he would
then have these administered, not through an interpreter,
but from the hands and by the tongue of a kinsman and
fellow-countryman. But Wighard, on coming to Rome
died of a disease, with all his attendants, before he
had received the dignity of bishop. Now the pope,

BENEDICT BISCOP. 231

that the embassy of the faithful might not fail through
the death of their ambassadors, called a council, and
appointed one of his Church to send as archbishop into
Britain. This was Theodore, a man deep in all secu-
lar and ecclesiastical learning, whether Greek or Latin ;
and to him was given, as a colleague and counsellor, a
man equally strenuous and prudent, the abbot Hadrian.
Perceiving also that the reverend Benedict would become
a man of wisdom, industry, piety, and nobility of mind,
he committed to him the newly ordained bishop, with his
followers, enjoining him to abandon the travel which he
had undertaken for Christ's sake ; and with a higher good
in view, to return home to his country, and bring into it
that teacher of wisdom whom it had so earnestly wished
for, and to be to him an interpreter and guide, both on the
journey thither, and afterwards, upon his arrival, when he
should begin to preach. Benedict did as he was com-
manded ; they came to Kent, and were joyfully received
there ; Theodore ascended his episcopal throne, and
Benedict took upon himself to rule the monastery of the
blessed apostle Peter, of which, afterwards, Hadrian be-
came abbot.

He ruled the monastery for two years ; and then suc-
cessfully, as before, accomplished a third voyage from
Britain to Piome, and brought back a large number of
books on sacred literature, which he had either bought at
a price or received as gifts from his friends. On his
return he arrived at Vienne, where he took possession of
such as he had entrusted his friends to purchase for him.
When he had come home, he determined to go to the
court of Conwalh, king of the West Saxons, whose friend-
ship and services he had already more than once expe-
rienced. But Conwalh died suddenly about this time, and
he therefore directed his course to his native province.
He came to the court of Egfrid, king of Northumberland,
and gave an account of all that he had done since in youth
he had left his country. He made no secret of his zeal
for religion, and showed what ecclesiastical or monastic

232 BENEDICT BISCOP.

instructions he had received at Rome and elsewhere. He
displayed the holy volumes and relics of Christ's blessed
apostles and martyrs, which he had brought, and found
such favour in the eyes of the king, that he forthwith gave
him seventy hides of land out of his own estates, and
ordered a monastery to be built thereon for the first pastor
of his church. This was done at the mouth of the river
Were, on the left bank, in the 674th year of our Lord's
incarnation, in the second indiction, and in the fourth
year of king Egfrid's reign.

After the interval of a year, Benedict crossed the sea
into Gaul, and no sooner asked than he obtained and
carried back with him some masons to build him a church
in the Roman style, which he had always admired. So
much zeal did he show from his love to Saint Peter, in
whose honour he was building it, that within a year from
the time of laying the foundation, you might have seen
the roof on and the solemnity of the mass Celebrated
therein. When the work was drawing to completion, he
sent messengers to Gaul to fetch makers of glass, (more
properly artificers,) which was at this time unknown in
Britain, that they might glaze the windows of his church,
with the cloisters and dining rooms. This was done, and
they came, and not only finished the work required, but
taught the English nation their handicraft, which was well
adapted for enclosing the lanterns of the church, and for
the vessels required for various uses. All other things neces-
sary for the service of the church and the altar, the sacred
vessels, and the vestments, because they could not be pro-
cured in England, he took especial care to buy and bring
home from foreign parts.

" Some decorations and muniments there were, which
could not be procured even in Gaul, and these the pious
founder determined to fetch from Rome ; for which pur-
pose, after he had formed the rule for his monastery, he
made his fourth voyage to Rome, and returned loaded
with more abundant spiritual merchandise than before.
In the first place, he brought back a large quantity of

BENEDICT BISCOP. 233

books of all kinds ; secondly, a great number of relics of
Christ's apostles and martyrs, all likely to bring a bless-
ing on many an English church; thirdly, he introduced
the Roman mode of chanting, singing, and ministering in
the church, by obtaining permission from pope Agatho to
take back with him John, the arch-chanter of the church
of St Peter, and abbot of the monastery of St Martin, to
teach the English. This John, when he arrived in
England, not only communicated instruction by teaching
personally, but left behind him numerous writings, which
are still preserved in the library of the same monastery.
In the fourth place, Benedict brought with him a thing by
no means to be despised, namely, a letter of privilege from
pope Agatho, which he had procured, not only with the con-
sent, but by the request and exhortation, of king Egfrid, and
by which the monastery was rendered safe and secure for
ever from foreign invasion. Fifthly, he brought with him
pictures of sacred representations, to adorn the church of
St Peter, which he had built ; namely, a likeness of the
Virgin Mary and of the twelve apostles, with which he
intended to adorn the central nave, on boarding placed
from one wall to the other ; also some figures from eccles-
iastical history for the south wall, and others from the
Revelation of St John for the north wall ; so that every
one who entered the church, even if they could not read,
wherever they turned their eyes, might have before them
the amiable countenance of Christ and his saints, though
it were but in a picture, and with watchful minds might
revolve on the benefits of our Lord's incarnation, and
having before their eyes the perils of the last judgmeDt,
might examine their hearts the more strictly on that
account.

In 682 he received a further donation of land from
Egfrid, and upon this new estate he built the monastery
of Jarrow, and placed therein seventeen monks under an
abbot named Ceolfrid. About the same time he appointed
a presbyter, Easterwine, to be joint abbot with himself of

v 2

234 BENEDICT BISCOP.

St Peter's monasteiy, at Weremouth, that, with the help
of this fellow soldier, he might sustain a burden otherwise
too heavy for him. Soon after this he took his fifth and
last journey to Rome, and as before, came back enriched
with a further supply of ecclesiastical books and pictures,
He brought with him, says Bede, pictures of the
saints, as numerous as before. He also brought with him
pictures out of our Lord's history, which he hung round
the chapel of our Lady in the larger monastery; and
others to adorn St Paul's church and monastery, ably
describing the connexion of the Old and New Testament :
as, for instance, Isaac bearing the wood for his own
sacrifice, and Christ carrying the cross on which he was
about to suffer, were placed side by side. Again, the
serpent raised up by Moses in the desert was illustrated
by the Son of Man exalted on the cross. Among other
things, he brought two cloaks, all of silk, and of incom-
parable workmanship, for which he received an estate of
three hides on the south bank of the river Were, near
its mouth, from king Alfrid, for he found on his return
that Egfrid had been murdered during his absence.

But, amid this prosperity, he found afflictions also
awaiting his return. The venerable Easterwine, whom
he had made abbot when he departed, and many of the
brethren committed to his care, had died of a general
pestilencei But for this loss he found some consolation in
the good and reverend deacon, Sigfrid, whom the brethren
and his co-abbot Ceolfrid had chosen to be his successor.
He was a man well skilled in the knowledge of Holy
Scripture, of most excellent manners, of wonderful con-
tinence, and one in whom the virtues of the mind were
in no small degree depressed by bodily infirmity, and the
innocency of whose heart was tempered with a baneful
and incurable affection of the lungs.

Not long after, Benedict himself was seized by a
disease. For, that the virtue of patience might be a
trial of their religious zeal, the Divine Love laid both of

BENEDICT BISCOP. 235

them on the bed of temporal sickness, that when
they had conquered their sorrows by death, He might
cherish them for ever in heavenly peace and quietude.
Benedict died of a palsy, which grew upon him for three
whole years ; so that when he was dead in all his lower
extremities, his upper and vital members, spared to show
his patience and virtue, were employed in the midst of
his Bufferings in giving thanks to the Author of his being,
in praises to God, and exhortations to the brethren. He
urged the brethren, when they came to see him, to observe
the rule which he had given then. 'For,' said he, 'you
cannot suppose that it was my own untaught heart which
dictated this rule to you. I learnt it from seventeen
monasteries, which I saw during my travels, and most
approved of, and I copied these institutions thence for
your benefit.' The large and noble library, which he had
brought from Rome, and which was necessary for the
edification of his church, he commanded to be kept entire,
and neither by neglect to be injured or dispersed. But
on one point he was most solicitous, in choosing an abbot,
lest high birth, and not rather probity of life and doctrine,
should be attended to. 'And I tell you of a truth,' said
he, ' in the choice of two evils, it would be much more
tolerable for me, if God so pleased, that this place, where-
in I have built the monastery, should for ever become a
desert, than that any carnal brother, who, as we know,
walks not in the way of truth, should become abbot, and
succeed me in its government. Wherefore, my brethren,
beware, and never choose an abbot on account of his birth,
nor from any foreign place ; but seek out, according to the
rule of abbot Benedict the Great, and the decrees of our
order, with common consent, from amongst your own
company, whoever in virtue of life and wisdom of doctrine
may be found fittest for this office ; and whomsoever you
shall, by this unamious inquiry of Christian charity, prefer
and choose, let him be made abbot, with the customary
blessings, in the presence of the bishop. For those who
after the flesh beget children of the flesh, must necessarily

236 BENEDICT BISCOP.

seek fleshly and earthly heirs to their fleshly and earthly
inheritance ; but those who by the spiritual seed of the
Word procreate spiritual sons to God, must of like neces-
sity be spiritual in every thing that they do. Among their
spiritual children, they think him the greatest who is
possessed of the most abundant grace of the Spirit, in
the same way as earthly parents consider their eldest as
the principal one of their children, and prefer him to the
others in dividing out their inheritance.'

Nor must we, says Bede, omit to mention that the
venerable abbot Benedict, to lessen the wearisomenessof the
night, which from his illnes he often passed without sleep-
ing, would frequently call a reader, and cause him to read
aloud, as an example for himself, the history of the patience
of Job, or some other extract from Scripture, by which his
pains might be alleviated, and his depressed soul be raised
to heavenly things. And because he could not get up to
pray, nor without difficulty lift up his voice to the usual
extent of daily psalmody, the prudent man, in his zeal for
religion, at every hour of daily or nightly prayer would
call to him some of the brethren, and making them
sing psalms in two companies, would himself sing with
them, arid thus make up by their voices for the deficiency
of his own.

Now both the abbots saw that they were near death, and
unfit longer to rule the monastery, from increasing weak-
ness, which, though tending no doubt to the perfection of
Christian purity, was so great, that, when they expressed
a desire to see one another before they died, and Sigfrid
was brought in a litter into the room where Benedict was
lying od his bed, though they were placed by the attend
ants with their heads on the same pillow, they had not
the power of their own strength to kiss one another, but
were assisted even in this act of fraternal love. After
taking counsel with Sigfrid and the other brethren,
Benedict sent for Ceolfrid, abbot of St Paul's, dear to him
not by relationship of the flesh, but by the ties of Christian
virtue, and with the consent and approbation of all, made

BENEDICT. 237

him abbot of both monasteries ; thinking it expedient in
every respect to preserve peace, unity, and concord between
the two, if they should have one father and ruler for ever,
after the example of the kingdom of Israel, which always
remained invincible and inviolate by foreign nations as
long as it was ruled by one and the same govenor of its
own race ; but when for its former sins it was torn into
opposing factions, it fell by degrees, and, thus shorn of
its ancient integrity, perished. He reminded them also
of that evangelical maxim, ever worthy to be remem-
bered,— ' A kingdom divided against itself shall be laid
waste.'

Two months after this, God's chosen servant, the
venerable abbot Sigfrid, having passed through the fire
and water of temporal tribulation, was carried to the rest-
ing-place of everlasting repose : he entered the mansion
of the heavenly kingdom, rendering up whole offerings of
praise to the Lord which his righteous lips had vowed ;
and after another space of four months, Benedict, who so
nobly vanquished sin and wrought the deeds of virtue,
yielded to the weakness of the flesh, and came to his end.
Night came on chilled by the winter's blasts, but a day of
eternal felicity succeeded, of serenity and of splendour.
The brethren met together at the church, and passed the
night without sleep iD praying and singing, consoling
their sorrow for their father's departure by one continued
outpouring of praise.

His death occurred on the ] 4th of January, 690. — Vita
Beatorum Abbatum Wiremuthensium et Girvensium Bene-
dicti, d'G. auctore Beda. Edit. Giles.

Benedict, of Peterborough, was born in the twelfth
century, and educated at Oxford, where he was made a
doctor in divinity ; becoming a benedictine monk in
Christ church, Canterbury, he was elected prior of that
house. Though a great admirer of Thomas a Becket, he
was so much esteemed by Henry II, that by the influence
of that prince, he obtained the abbacy of Peterborough in

238 BENEDICT.

the year 1177. He assisted at the coronation of Richard I.
in 1189, and was made keeper of the great seal in 1191.

He wrote the life of Thomas a JBecket, and has been
called by Bale a vile impostor ; but the censure of Bale
will not much damage any reputation, the character
of that bishop of Ossory, for scurrility, being too well
known. (See his life.) Dr Cave informs us that the
author of the " Quadrilogus" transcribed the greater part
of Benedict's life of Becket into the third and fourth
books of his work.

Benedict died on Michaelmas day, 1193. Biog. Brit
Leland. Bale. Nicholson.

Benedict, of Gloucester, a monk of the great abbey
there, of whose time nothing is known. He has left a
life of Dubricius, archbishop of Caerleon, printed by
Wharton, (Anglia Sacra, ii. 654.) This relates the trans-
lation of Dubricius, in 1120; consequently the author
must have lived after that year, and the MS. used is
thought not much later. (Angl. Sacr. ii. Prcpf.)

Benedict, of Norwich, a learned monk, author of several
works, one of which was entitled, Alphabetum Aristotelis.
He died and was buried at Norwich in the year 1340.

Benedict, or Benoist, was born in Languedoc a. d.
750. He was son of Aigulfe, count of Languedoc, who was
distinguished by his fidelity to king Pepin, and by the
courage with which he defeated the Gascons, who invaded
his territories. Aigulfe sent his son Benoist to the court
of Pepin, where he first served as cup-bearer, and was
afterwards in the army. After the death of Pepin, he
entered the service of Charlemagne. An accident by
which he was nearly drowned struck him so forcibly that
he then began in earnest to think of his salvation : he
resolved to retire from the world, quitted his parents, and
intended to go to Aix la Chapelle, but passing through
Burgundy, he stopped at the abbey of St Seine, in the

BENEDICT. 239

diocese of Langres, near Dijon, and became a monk in that
house.

Two years and a half were passed by him in austerities
and fastings ; and when the abbot of St Seine died, the
monks wished to elect Benoist into his place, which he
declined, again passed into Languedoc (780,) and there
built a hermitage near a chapel dedicated to St Saturninus,
situated upon the stream called the Aniane. This hermit-
age increased by degrees until it became a considerable
convent, where there were 300 monks. The zeal of Benoist
of Aniane became noted, and led him to undertake the
reformation of monasteries, and the restoration of disci-
pline, both monastic and ecclesiastical : he also withstood
the errors of Felix of Elipandis.

Louis the Debonaire sent for Benoist and made him
chief over all the monasteries in France. He assisted at
the council of Aix la Chapelle, and presided over an
assembly of abbots, at which he drew up rules and statutes
to regulate the monastic life ; these were authorized by
the king, and sent to all the religious houses in France.

Benoist died in 821, at the monastery of Inde, called
since St Cornelius, which he had established near Aix la
Chapelle. This holy abbot was in France and Germany
what St Benedict was in Italy. He compiled a collection
of rules belonging to the Eastern and Western monks,
called Codex Regularum, with a concord, to shew the
superiority of the rule of St Benedict. He also prepared
a collection of homilies from the fathers, and a peni-
tential office.

The life of Benoist of Aniane was written by Ardon
Shearagdus, and given with a collection of his works in
1648, together with curious notes by Hugo Mainard, a
learned Benedictine. — Mabillon. Bulteaus Hist. Monast.
d'Ocad. Herschinus Dissert, sur Benoit d 'Aniane* Baillet
vies des Saints. Dnpin.

Benedicttjs, Peter, was born at Gusta, in Phoenicia,
in 1663. He received his education in the Maronite

240 BENEDICT.

college at Rome, where he made a great progress in
Oriental learning. After occupying the Hebrew professor-
ship at Pisa, at the age of forty-four he became a Jesuit,
but without losing the respect in which he was held by
the Maronites. He died at Rome in 1742. He com-
menced an edition of Ephrem Syrus, his venerable
countryman, a father of the Church; the edition was
completed by Assemanni. Benedictus also translated
part of the Greek menology. — Biog. Univ.

Benedict, Rene, or Renatus, a doctor of the Sorbonne,
and curate of St Eustathius, at Paris, was born at
Sevenieres, near Angers. He secretly inclined to pro-
testantism, and published at Paris the French translation
of the Scriptures, made by the reformed ministers at
Geneva. The version, after having been approved by
several doctors of the Sorbonne, and a privilege granted for
printing it, was on publication condemned, no doubt on
account of its origin being discovered. He was confessor
to Mary queen of Scots when she was in France. Some
time before the death of Henry III. of France, Benedict
published a book entitled Apologie Catholique, to shew
that the protestantism of Henry of Navarre was not a
sufficient reason to deprive him of his right of succes-
sion to the throne, because the Huguenots admitted the
fundamental articles of the catholic faith, and because the
ceremonies and practices which they rejected were not
observed in the primitive church. He contended also that
the council of Trent which condemned them, was neither
a general council, nor acknowledged by the church of
France. Benedict assisted in the assembly at St Denis,
which advised Henry of Navarre to be reconciled to the
church, for which that monarch appointed him bishop
of Troyes, but he could never be induced to apply for the
papal bulls, so that he only enjoyed its temporalities.
He died at Angers in 1608. His works are — 1. Apologie
Catholique. 2. History of the Coronation of Henry IV.
8vo. — Moreri.

BENEFIELD. 241

Benedicttjs, Levita, flourished in the early part of the
ninth century, and was a deacon of Mentz. He is chiefly
distinguished as the author of a collection of capitularies
in three books, which he compiled at the request of Otgar,
archbishop of Mentz, about the year 847. It is joined to
the four books of Ansegisus, and forms the fifth, sixth,
and seventh books of capitularies. — Biog. Univ.

Benefield, Sebastian, of the seventeenth century,
born at Prestbury, in Gloucestershire, August 12th, 1559.
He was admitted a scholar of Corpus Christi college, in
Oxford, August 30th, 1586, and chosen probationer-
fellow, April 16th, 1590. After he had taken his degree
of master of arts, he entered into holy orders ; and in
1599, was appointed rhetoric reader in his college, and
the year following admitted to the reading of the sen-
tences. In 1608, he took the degree of doctor of divinity,
and five years after, was appointed Margaret professor of
divinity in that university. He discharged this office
with great success for fourteen years, when he resigned
it, and retired to his rectory of Meysey Hampton, near
Fairford, in Gloucestershire, into which he had been in-
ducted several years before. He spent here the remainder
of his life; and was eminent for piety, integrity, and
extensive learning. He was well skilled in all arts of
knowledge, and extremely conversant in the writings
of the fathers and schoolmen. He was a sedentary
man, and fond of retirement, which rendered him less
easy and affable in conversation. He was particularly
attached to the opinions of Calvin, especially that of
predestination ; so that he has been styled a downright
and doctrinal Calvinist. He died at Meysey Hampton,
August 24th, 1630, and was buried in the chancel of the
church, on the 29th of the same month. He wrote the
following treatises : — 1. Doctrinse Christianas sex capita
totidem praelectionibus in schola Theolog. Oxon. pro
forma habitis discussa et desceptata. Oxford, 1610, 4to.
vol. it. x

242 BENGEL.

2. Appendix ad caput secundum de conciliis Evangelicis
etcet. ad versus Humphredum Leech. 3. Eight sermons
publicly preached in the university of Oxford, the second
at St Peter's in the East, the rest at St Mary's church.
Oxford, 1614, in 4to. 4. The siu against the Holy Ghost,
and other Christian doctrines, delivered in twelve sermons,
upon part of the tenth chapter of the epistle to the
Hebrews. Oxford, 1615, in 4to. 5. A Commentary, or
Exposition upon the first chapter of Amos, delivered in
twenty-one sermons, in the parish church of Meysey
Hampton, in the diocese of Gloucester. Oxford, 1613, in
4to. 6. Several sermons. 7. Commentary, or Exposition
upon the second chapter of Amos, delivered in twenty-one
sermons, in the parish church of Meysey Hampton, &c.
London, 1620, in 4to. 8. Prselectiones de perse verantia
sanctorum. Francfort, 1618, in 8vo. 9. Commentary, or
Exposition on the third chapter of Amos, &c. London,
1629, in 4to. 10. A Latin sermon upon Revelations.
— Biog. Brit.

Bengel, or Bengelius, was born at Winnedin, in
Wirtemberg, in 1687, and became divinity professor at
Tubingen, in Suabia. His works are — 1. Novi Testa-
menti Graeci recte cauteque adornandi prodromus, 8vo.
2. Notitia Nov. Test. Graec. recte cauteque adornati, 8vo.
o. Novum Test. Grsec. cum introductione in Crisin N. T.
Apparatu Critico et Epilogo, 4to. 4. Gnomon Nov. Test.
4to. 5. Cyclus, sive de anno magno solis, lunae, stellarum
consideratio, &c. 8vo, 6. Ordo Temporum, 8vo. He held
the doctrine of the millenium, the commencement of which
he placed in the year 1836. Dr John Piobertson published
a translation of his Introduction to the Exposition of the
Apocalypse, Svo. 1757. His edition of the New Testament
created a great sensation in the theological world at its
first appearance, though his labours as a critic have been
superseded by Witstein. He died in 1752. — Bp. Marsh's
Lectures. Gen. Diet.

BENIGNUS. 243

Benignus was the son of Sesgnen, a man of power and
wealth in Meath, who hospitably entertained St Patrick
in the year 433. The following account of him is given
by Jocelin :

" Sesgnen had a son, whom St Patrick baptized, and
adapting his name to his disposition, called him Benignus ;
and, in truth, his life and temper made good the name ;
for he was gentle and good natured, beloved by God and
men, and worthy of glory and honour both in this world
and the next. This youth stuck close to the side of the
prelate, and could by no means be kept asunder from him :
for when the holy man was going to take his rest, this
most pure child running from his father and mother, cast
himself at his feet, and pressing them with his hands to
his breast, and imprinting many kisses thereon, rested
with him. On the morrow, when St Patrick was pre-
pared for his journey, and ready to get into his chariot,
the boy laid hold of his foot beseeching and adjuring him
not to leave him behind ; and when both his parents
would have separated him from their guest, and retained
him with them, the lad, with tears and lamentations,
begged them to let him go with his spiritual father. The
Saint, seeing such great devotion in so tender a heart and
body, blessed him in the name of the Lord ; and, taking
him up in his chariot, prophesied, ' That he should be
the successor of his ministry, as indeed he was : for this
same Benignus succeeded St Patrick in the government
of his bishopric and primacy of all Ireland ; and, at length,
being celebrated for his great virtues and miracles, he
rested in the Lord."'

It is supposed that he was baptized by the name of
Stephen, which accordingly is one of the appellations
given to him. He obtained the name of Benin, whence
Benignus, from the sweetness of his disposition, the word
Bin in the Irish language signifying sweet. He was the
constant companion of St Patrick through the entire course
of his mission, and by some writers it is supposed that
the government of the church was consigned to him during

244 BENNET.

the lifetime of that prelate ; he certainly succeeded to the
see of Armagh in the year 455. Several poems regulating
the tributes and privileges of the monarchs and provincial
kings of Ireland, which are still extant in the Irish lan-
guage, are attributed to Benignus, and, as Mr Todd ob-
serves, are some proof that the Church had so advanced
in his time, as to be permitted to take an interest in the
civil affairs of the country. According to William of
Malmesbury, he relinquished his see before the end of his
life, and died a hermit at Firlingmore, near Glastonbury.
— Usher. Biog. Brit. Todd's Hist, of the Irish Church.

Bennet, Thomas, was born in 1673, and sent to St
John's college, Cambridge, in 1688. In 1699 he pub-
lished an Answer to the Dissenters' Pleas for Separation.
In the next year he was presented by bishop Compton
to the rectory of St James's, Colchester, where he became
an active parish priest. He now published his Confuta-
tion of Popery, which was followed in 1702 by a Discourse
of Schism ; in which he shews what is meant by schism ;
that schism is a damnable sin ; that there is a schism
between the church of England and the dissenters.
That this schism is to be charged on the dissenters'
side ; that the modern pretences of toleration, agree-
ment in fundamentals, &c. will not excuse the dissenters
from being guilty of schism. In 1705 he printed at
Cambridge his Confutation of Quakerism, and in 1708
A Brief History of the joint use of Precomposed Forms of
Prayer, in which he shews that the ancient Jews, our
Saviour, His Apostles, and the primitive Christians, never
joined in any prayers, but precomposed set forms only ;
that those precomposed set forms, in which they joined,
were such as the respective congregations were accus-
tomed to, and throughly acquainted with ; and that
their practice warrants the imposition of a national pre-
composed liturgy. To this treatise he has annexed a
discourse of the gift of prayer, the intent of which is to
shew, that what the dissenters mean by the gift of prayer,

BENNET.

viz. a faculty of conceiving prayers extempore, is not
comprised in Scripture. In the same year he published
his discourse On Joint Prayers, wherein he points out,
what is meant by joint prayer, that the joint use of prayers
conceived ex tempore, hinders devotion, and consequently
displeases God ; whereas the joint use of such precom-
posed set forms, as the congregation is accustomed to, and
throughly acquainted with, does effectually promote de-
votion, and consequently is commanded by God ; that
the lay dissenters are obliged, upon their own principles,
to abhor the prayers offered in their separate assemblies,
and to join in communion with the Established Church
This treatise was animadverted upon in several places.
In 1709 he published in 8vo. his Paraphrase with anno-
tations, on the Book of Common Prayer, in which he
observes that the using of the morning prayer, the litany,
and communion service at one and the same time, in one
continued order, is contrary to the first intention and
practice of the Church. In 1711 he published his Plights
of the Christian Church, to prove that Church authority
is not derived from the people, and that the laity have no
divine right to elect the clergy or choose their own pastors.
About this time he took his DD. degree. His next im-
portant publication was his "Directions for studying. 1. A
general system of divinity: Q. The thirty-nine articles, to
which is added St Jerome's Epistle to Xepotian." The
same year he published his Essay on the thirty-nine
articles agreed upon in 1562, and revised in 1571, in
which he defended the genuineness of the then contro-
verted clause in the -20th article. About this time he left
Colchester and removed to London, where he was chosen
lecturer at St Olave's in the Borough, and morning preacher
at St Lawrence Jewry. In 1716 he attacked the prin-
ciples of the nonjurors, in a pamphlet entitled, "The Non-
jurors' Separation from the Public Assemblies of the
Church of England, examined and approved to be Schis-
matical on their own Principles." He was soon after pie-
x g

'248 BENSON

sented to the vicarage of St Giles's, Cripplegate, where he
quickly became involved in disputes with his parishioners
on the rights of his Church, to which he recovered £150
per annum. In 1718 he engaged in the Trinitarian
controversy, in an examination of Dr Clarke's Scripture
Doctrine of the Trinity. In 1726 he published a Hebrew
grammar. He died of apoplexy on October 9, 1728. On
many points Dr Bennet's views were latitudinarian, and
in his controversies on the most sacred doctrine of the
Holy Trinity, his positions have sometimes the appear-
ance of being heterodox. — Gen. Diet. Biog. Brit.

Bennet, Benjamin, a presbyterian teacher, was born at
Whellesburgh, in Leicestershire, in 1674. After going
through his academical exercises he settled as a preacher
at the place of his nativity, from whence he removed to
Newcastle-upon-Tyne. His works are — 1. A Memorial of
the Reformation, 8vo, 1721, a very partial and unfair
performance. 2. A Defence of the same, 8vo. 3. Dis-
courses on Popery, 8vo. 4. Irenicum, or a Review of some
late controversies about the Trinity, 8vo. 5. Sermons on
the Inspiration of the Holy Scriptures. 6. Christian
Oratory, 8vo. This last work has gone through numerous
editions, and is exceedingly popular. He has the ill fame
of being chiefly instrumental, by his treatise, entitled
Irenicum, alluded to above, in leading the presbyterians
of England to the denial of the Saviour, and the rejection
of the God of Christians. He died at Newcastle in 1706.
— Gen. Diet. Bogue and Burnet's Hist, of Dissenters.

Benson, George, was born at Great Salkeld in Cum-
ber1 and, in 1699. He was educated at Whitehaven, and
afterwards at Glasgow. About 1721 he was chosen to
be : be teacher of a congregation at Abingdon, in Berkshire,
fron whence he removed in 1729 to Southwark, and in
1 7 succeeded Dr. Harris, at Crutched Friars. One of
cotch universities gave him the degree of DD.

BENTHAM. 247

the dissenters then been willing to receive titles which
formerly they denounced. He was educated a calvinist,
but being a learned man, and holding the right of private
judgment, he examined the calvinistic system, and found
it impossible to reconcile it with Scripture ; but when he
renounced Calvinism he did not look to the Church, but
following the blind guide of his private judgment fell into
Arianism. His chief works are, A Defence of the Reason-
ableness of Prayer ; An Account of the Burning of Servetus
at Geneva, and of the Concern of Calvin in that Act; An
Account of Archbishop Laud's Treatment of Dr Leighton ;
A Dissertation on % Thess. ii. 1 — 12, against the church
of Rome ; A Paraphrase and Notes on the Epistle to
Philemon, in the manner of Mr. Locke; which was
followed by paraphrases and notes, on the same plan, on
the Epistles to the Thessalonians, Timothy, and Titus,
and the Catholic Epistles. In 1735 he published a
History of the First Planting of Christianity, in two vols,
4 to. He wrote also the Reasonableness of the Christian
Religion as delivered in the Scriptures ; a Collection of
Tracts against Persecution; a volume of Sermons; and
a History of the Life of Jesus Christ, a posthumous work,
published in 1764. He died in 1763. He was respected
as a man of learning, but he was pedantic and wrote in
an affected style. — Memoirs prefixed to his Works.

Bentham, Thomas, was born about the year 1513, at
Sherbourne, in Yorkshire, and became a fellow of Magda-
lene college, Oxford, in 1543. He became eminent in
the university as a Hebrew scholar, and his theological
studies convinced him that the Church required a reforma-
tion. When first he went to the university the reforming
party was small, but in spite of the vigilance of the heads
of houses, it rapidly gained ground; and when, in the
reign of Edward VI. the reformers were in the ascendant,
Bentham embraced the cause of the reformation with
youthful ardour. It is said that with Henry Bull, of the
same college, he once shook the censer out of the hands

248 BENTHAM.

of some one officiating in the college chapel, to prevent,
as it was said, incense being offered to an idol. When,
with the accession of Queen Mary, the Romanizers
regained authority in church and state, and, aided by the
strong conservative feeling, which had been excited by
the excesses of the reforming ministry of Edward VI.
they were carrying things with a high hand, Bentham
disdained to conceal his sentiments. He refused to be
present at the service of the Church, now performed
according to the ritual as it existed before the late reign,
and he also refused to correct the scholars of his college
when they absented themselves from chapel. He therefore
became one of the first victims of the visitation under-
taken by Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, in 1553, and.
was deprived of his fellowship. He then went abroad,
residing some time at Zurich and Basle, where he became
preacher to the English exiles, expounding to them the
acts of the apostles, until he was called to a work of greater
danger. Many congregations remained in London during
Mary's reign in which the doctrine of the reformation
was preached, and there was one chief congregation, the
pastor of which acted as superintendent over all the others.
And this superintendent Bentham, in the last year of
queen Mary's reign, became. They required a fearless
man, and the fearlessness of Bentham was such as on one
occasion to bring him into danger. When seven martyrs
were to be burnt in Smithfield, proclamation was made that
none should speak to them, comfort them, or pray for them.
Bentham, however, no sooner saw fire put to the pile, than
he cried out, " We know that they are God's people ; we
must, therefore, wish them well, and pray Him to strength-
en them. Oh, may God Almighty, for Christ's sake, give
them strength." Loud shouts of " Amen" arose immedi-
ately on every side, greatly to the confusion and amaze-
ment of those who were charged with this cruel execution.
The cruelty of the Romanizing party had now done its
work, and had caused a re-action in men's minds. If pious
men had been disgusted with the selfishness and rapacity

BENT AM. 249

with which the reformers of Edward the sixth's reign had
applied to their own aggrandizement, and not the public
good, the revenues of which they despoiled the Church, all
men were now prepared to think any thing better than
the awful severity with which the ministers of Mary sought
to repress the reformation and silence their opponents.

In the second year of queen Elizabeth's reign, Bentham
was nominated to the see of Coventry and Lichfield, and
was consecrated on the 21th of March, 1559. Like others of
the bishops preferred in queen Elizabeth's reign, Bentham
would have been willing to have carried the reformation
further than the Church in convocation, and the queen as
head of the state, would permit. The superintending pro-
vidence of God protected His Church in this land then, as
It has often done since, from the rashness of her prelates,
who have acted merely as instruments in the hands of
God. May such protection ever be vouchsafed to the
blessed church of England !

In the year 1565 complaint was made against the dio-
cese of Coventry and Lichfield for not observing the orders
of the Church, for the dislike of the ecclesiastical habits,
and some other rites. Bishop Bentham was therefore
reproved ; and in consequence he appointed, in the be-
ginning of this year, a visitation to be held by Mr Sale
(or Saul), some dignitary of that church. And for the
better proceeding in this visitation, the bishop wrote, by
his own hand, these brief instructions for him to observe :

' Imprimis, Whereas I and my diocese are accused of
disorders, used of my clergy, these are to will you to charge
them all to behave themselves in their ministry, soberly
and reverently, in all points of clerkly office, as well within
the church as without ; upon pains which may ensue for
the transgressing the queen's injunctions.

• Item, To charge all and every the clergy to make pre-
sentments of those that had not communicated that Easter;
and such as refused their own churches, parsons, vicars,
or curates; and went to other parishes. And in what
parishes they were received.

250 BENTHAM.

1 To charge them to make presentments of all children
being full seven years of age, and not confirmed.

' And to give charge in their parishes, that in Rogation
week, none go about, but such as the queen's injunctions
do allow ; that is, substantial men of the parish, with the
curate.

1 To learn, whether the register book be had and ob-
served for marriages, christenings, and burials.

' All these and such others, as you shall see most meet,
for faithful and fruitful service of the ministers ; as in
appointing taxes and such like order, I will you do not
omit. " T. C. L.

The ZSth of April, 1565.

He published a sermon on Matt. iv. 1 — 2. printed at
London. Bishop Burnet says, he translated into English
the book of Psalms, at the command of queen Elizabeth,
when an English version of the Bible was to be made, and
that he likewise translated Ezekiel and Daniel. He died
at Eccleshall castle, in Staffordshire, the seat belonging to
his see, February 19, 1578, aged 65 years. — Wood. Tanner.
Strype's Annals Memorials. Cranmer. Grinded. Parker.

Bentham, Edward, was born at Ely in 1707. He was
educated at the school of Christ church, Oxford, from
whence, in 1723, he removed as a member of the univer-
sity to Corpus Christi college, and in 1731 was chosen
fellow of Oriel-college. The year following he took his
degree of MA. In 1743 he obtained a prebend in the
cathedral of Hereford, of which church he was afterwards
treasurer. In 1749 he proceeded to his doctors degree,
and in 1754 was promoted to the fifth stall in his cathe-
dral. On the death of Dr Fanshaw he was nominated
regius professor of divinity in the university of Oxford,
and in 1763 was removed to the eighth stall in the church
of Hereford. He died in 1776. Besides some single
sermons, Dr Bentham published — 1. An Introduction to
Moral Philosophy, 8vo. 2. A Letter to a young Gentle-
man on Study ; with a Letter to a Fellow of a College, 8vo.

BENTLEY. 2.51

3. Advice to a young man of rank, upon coming to the
University. 4. Reflections on Logic, with a vindication
of the same, 8vo. 5. Funeral Eulogies upon military
men, from the Greek, 8vo. 6. De Studiis Theologicis
Praelectio. 7. Reflections upon the Study of Divinity,
with heads of a course of Lectures, 8vo. 8. De Vita et
Moribus Johannis Burton, S. T. P. 9. An Introduction to
Logic, 8vo. 10. De Tumultibus Americanis deque eorum
concitatoribus similis meditatio. — Biog. Brit.

Bentham, James, brother of the preceding, was born at
Ely. He studied at Trinity-college, Cambridge, and in
1738 was presented to the vicarage of Stapleford in the
same county, which he resigned three years afterwards, on
being appointed minor canon of Ely. In 1767 he was
presented to the vicarage of Wymondham, in Norfolk, but
resigned it the next year for the rectory of Feltwell St
Nicholas, which he exchanged in 1774 for the rectory of
North wold, an this again for a prebendal stall in the
cathedral of Ely, to which was added in 1783 the rectory
of Bow-brick-hill. In 1771 he published " The History
and Antiquities of the conventual and cathedral church of
Ely," 4to. ; to which work he prefixed an introduction,
giving an account of Saxon, Norman, and Gothic architec-
ture. This essay by some strange mistake was ascribed to
Gray the poet, and it was not till 1783 that Mr Bentham
heard of the injustice done him, when he asserted his
claim in the Gentleman's Magazine. In 1757 he published
proposals for a drainage of the Fens, and by his exertions
this plan was carried into effect. On this subject he also
printed a tract entitled " Considerations and Reflections
upon the present state of the Fens near Ely, 8vo. 1778.
He died in 1794, aged 86. A new edition of his history of
Ely cathedral was printed at Norwich in 1812. — Nichols's
Anecdotes.

Bentley, Richard, was born at Oulton, in the parish of
Rothwell, near Leeds, on the 27th of January, 1661 — 2.

252 BENTLEY.

The investigations of the present learned vicar of Roth-
well, the Rev John Bell, have not brought to light any
anecdotes of the gifted youth or his family in addition to
those already recorded by bishop Monk ; nor, though he
received his primary education at Methley, has a single
copy of his verses been discovered by the accomplished
rector of that parish. From the day-school at Methley,
Bentley was sent to the grammar school at Wakefield,
and at the age of fourteen he entered as subsizar of St
John's college, Cambridge.

With the exception, if even that exception be allowed,
of Joseph Justus Scaliger; Bentley takes the highest rank
among the classical soholars of any age. But his biography
belongs rather to the history of scholars than to that of
divines. Although, as a theological writer, he holds a distin-
guished place, yet his general character is not that on which
a Christian delights to dwell. It would not therefore be
consistent with the character of this work to enter into the
details of his literary and academical controversies, and at-
tention will merely be called to his labours as a theologian.
They commenced at an early period, though they were
at all times regarded as secondary to his literary pursuits,
if they were not themselves undertaken rather as an intel-
lectual employment than as a ministerial duty. He was
ordained in March, 1689 — 90, and while yet a deacon he
was appointed to deliver the Boyle Lecture, being the first
lecturer on that foundation : it is scarcely possible to con-
ceive a greater compliment to the merits of a young man,
and throughout life Bentley appears to have considered
this distinction as the greatest of the honours with which
he was ever invested. The subject of his discourses was
a " Confutation of Atheism," and in them the discoveries
in Newton's Principia were applied to the confirmation
of natural theology. The Principia had been published
about six years ; but the sublime discoveries of that work
were yet little known, owing, not merely to the obsta-
cles which oppose the reception of novelty, but to the
difficulty of comprehending the proofs whereby they are

BENTLEY. 253

established. To Bentley belongs, as bishop Monk remarks,
the undoubted merit of having been the first to lay open
these discoveries in a popular form, and to explain their
irresistible force in the proof of a Deity. This constitutes
the subject of his seventh and eighth sermons; pieces
admirable for the clearness with which the whole ques-
tion is developed, as well as for the logical precision of
their arguments. Among other topics, he shows how con-
tradictory to the principles of philosophy is the notion of
matter contained in the Solar System having been once
diffused over a chaotic space, and afterwards combined
into the large bodies of the sun, planets, and secondaries,
by the force of mutual gravitation ; and he explains that
the planets could never have obtained the transverse mo-
tion, which causes them to revolve round the sun in orbits
nearly circular, from the agency of any cause except the
arm of an almighty Creator. From these and other sub-
jects of physical astronomy, as well as from the discoveries
of Boyle, the founder of the lecture, respecting the nature
and properties of the atmosphere, a conviction is irresistibly
impressed upon the mind of the wisdom and benevolence
of the Deity. We are assured that the effect of these dis-
courses was such, that atheism was deserted as untenable
ground ; or, to use his own expression, the atheists were
1 silent since that time, and sheltered themselves under
deism.'

It is not to be supposed that the trustees of the lecture-
ship selected so young a man without previous knowledge
of his powers. By going so early to Cambridge, Bentley
obtained the start of his contemporaries : and not only had
his character as a scholar and man of genius been estab-
lished at Cambridge, but he had made himself well known
to the literary characters he was accustomed to meet in
bishop Stillingfleet's family, where he resided as tutor to
the bishop's son. Bishop Stillingfleet had discovered that
if " he had but humility, Bentley would be the most extra-
ordinary man in Europe." Moreover his character was

VOL. II. . y

254 BENTLEY.

established at the sister university, for he had attended
young Stillingfleet to Oxford, where some remarks which
he published on Maletas, in the form of an epistle to
Dr Neill, attracted the attention of the scholars of Europe,
and were praised for originality of conception, as well as
for copious erudition.

By bishop StilliDgfleet he was preferred to a stall in
Worcester cathedral in the year 1692, and he held after-
wards the rectory of Hartlebury, until his pupil, the
bishop's son, was old enough to take it. In 1696 he took
his degree of D.D. He had been previously appointed
royal librarian : and from a misunderstanding between
him and the honourable Mr Boyle of Christ-church, Oxford,
arose the celebrated Boyle controversy, in which Bentley
trampled upon his opponents, and in his Dissertation on
Phalaris, produced a work which has never been surpassed
in the combination of lively wit, logical acumen, and
originality of remark, with profound learning. His claims
as a scholar were now universally acknowledged, and in
1699, he was appointed to the mastership of Trinity
college, Cambridge. The appointment was made by the
commissioners, appointed by William, after the death of
Mary, to recommend fit persons to fill all vacancies in
ecclesiastical or university preferments in the gift of the
crown. As a calvinist and dissenter the king felt his
incompetency to interfere in such appointments, and the
prerogative of the crown had not yet been usurped by the
chief servant of the sovereign. In 1701 Bentley married,
and was in the same year made archdeacon of Ely.

Into an account of the controversies in which he was now
involved, and in which he was almost always in the wrong,
it is not, for reasons before assigned, our intention to enter:
we need merely say that he exhibited throughout a sad
deficiency in the temper of a Christian, and even of a
gentleman, and it is impossible not to regret the mis-
application of those immense powers of mind, which
enabled him for twenty eight years to defy all ecclesiastical

BENTLEY. 205

authority and the censures of the university, and against
all right and law to hold his post as master of Trinity
college.

Such, however, was the energy of his mind, that not-
withstanding the incessant litigation in which he was
involved, his labours as a scholar were continued without
interruption. In 1711 he published his edition of Horace,
on which he had been employed ten years, and which,
with all its faults, and many of them highly characteristic
of the man, was worthy of his former fame.

But it was in 1713 that he had an opportunity of em-
ploying his learning for the most legitimate of all purposes,
by his answer to Collins on Free-Thinking. Anthony
Collins, wei are told by bishop Monk, was a gentleman
of education and fortune, who in early life enjoyed the
friendship of Locke, and had for some years devoted him-
self to the dissemination of these principles of infidelity,
to which the theory of Locke legitimately leads. Being
respectable in his private life, popular and agreeable in
his manners, and possessing an extensive acquaintance,
he acquired influence in society; and so great was his
zeal in the cause, that he seems to have proposed to him-
self the character of an apostle of irreligion. At the be-
ginning of 1713 he published, without his name, a book
styled ' A Discourse of Free-Thinking, occasioned by the
Rise and Growth of a Sect called Free-Thinkers.' It is
but too certain that deism had been making considerable
advance in England since the Revolution, and that its
progress had been aided by the insidious writings of
Shaftesbury, Toland, Tindal, and other enemies of revealed
religion. But the assumption of a ' growing sect' seems
to have been an artifice designed to imply an uniformity
of opinions, which did not really exist, among the im-
pugners of Christianity. Or if the ' sect' had any thing
like ' a local habitation and a name,' it was a small knot
of persons whose ordinary place of rendezvous was the
Grecian coffee-house near Temple Bar; and of them
Mr Collins was himself the centre, His present work,

256 BENTLEY.

whether we regard its literary merit, its power of argu-
ment, or the profoundness of its views, appears totally
unworthy of the attention which it excited : the learning
is superficial, the reasoning unsound, and the information
upon general topics loose and inaccurate ; while his ' sapless
pages' (as Bentley well denominates them) are destitute of
those indispensable requisites, honesty, and candour, for
the absence of which no merits can atone. Nevertheless,
this publication, intrinsically so worthless, occasioned
great sensation : it appeared as the manifesto of a party ;
it assumed the concurrence of almost all great men of
every age and country in similar tenets of ' free-thinking;'
and it attacked the clergy of the church of England with
especial severity. The authoritative and self-sufficient
tone in which its positions are laid down, and its perpetual
appeals to ancient literature, were well calculated to entrap
the careless and half-learned, who at all times constitute a
large proportion of the reading public.

Many replies were published, but Phileleutherus Lep-
siensis had the merit of demolishing the infidel fabric :

Nothing, observes Dr Monk, can be more judicious or
effectual than the manner in which Bentley takes to pieces
the shallow but dangerous performance of the infidel. Not
satisfied with replying to particular arguments, he cuts the
ground from under his feet, by exposing the fallacious mode
of reasoning which pervades them all, and the contemptible
sophism which represents all good and great men of every
age and country to have been 'free-thinkers,' and conse-
quently partizans of his own sect. But the happiest of
the remarks are those which display the mistakes and
ignorance of Collins in his citations from classical writers.
By a kind of fatality, his translations are perpetually in-
accurate, and his conception of the originals erroneous :
and though most of his blunders are the effects of igno-
rance, yet not a few seem to arise from a deliberate inten-
tion of deceiving his readers. Never was the advantage
more conspicuous of a ripe and perfect scholar over a half-
learned smatterer: while the latter searches book after

BENTLEY. 257

book in pursuit of passages favourable to his own theory,
the former, familiar with the writings and characters of
the authors, and accurately versed in their language, is
able to take to pieces the ill-sorted patchwork of irrelevant
quotations. These parts of Bentley's work are not only
effectual in demolishing his adversary, but are both enter-
taining and useful to the reader ; and to them it is owing
that the book has experienced a fate so different from that
of other controversial writings : even the ablest and best-
written of such pieces generally fall into oblivion along
with the dispute which gave them birth; but the 'Re-
marks of Phileleutherus' are still read with the same
delight as at their first appearance. The fact of their
having passed through a multitude of editions at consider-
able intervals of time marks a continuance of interest
among the educated public, only to be accounted for by
the intrinsic value of the work.

For this work Bentley received the thanks of the univer-
sity. In 1716 he designed a new edition of the Greek
Testament, and had communications with Wetstein upon
the subject : but although, having collected materials, and
caused several manuscripts to be collated, he raised a
considerable subscription in 1720 to enable him to com-
plete the work ; the plan was never carried into effect, and
every sincere Christian must rejoice that the bold irre-
verent spirit of Dr Bentley was providentially diverted
from a work in which he might have done incalculable
mischief.

His labours seem not to have injured his health, nor his
controversies to have interfered with the regularity of his
life. In 1726 he published his edition of Terence, by
which his character as a scholar was still maintained ; but
he exposed himself to much ridicule by undertaking, at
the suggestion of queen Caroline, an edition of Milton,
for which he was perfectly unqualified, and which was
received when published, in 1731, with universal disap-
probation.

v 2

258 BERENGARIUS.

He was employed in preparing an edition of Homer,
when a paralytic stroke, in the year 1739, put an end to his
labours. In the early part of 1740 he lost his wife, and
he himself died of pleuritic fever on the 14th of July,
1742. — Bishop Monk's Life of B entity.

Berengarius, or Berenger, was born at Tours about
the close of the tenth or the beginning of the eleventh
century. He was educated under Fulbert, bishop of
Chartres, and remained in that city till the death of that
prelate. On the death of Fulbert, returning to Tours,
he was appointed lecturer in the public schools attached
to St Martin's church, of which church he afterwards
became chamberlain, and then treasurer. His reason for
leaving Tours and going to Angers is not known, but he
was there appointed archdeacon by the bishop, who goes
under the two names of Eusebius and Bruno. At
Angers, as well as at Tours, the disciples and followers of
Berengarius were many in number.

Berengarius was born at the period when the doctrine
of transubstantiation was daily becoming more and more
prevalent in the Western church, and that peculiar notion
respecting the change of substance in the consecrated ele-
ments of the holy Eucharist, he refused to admit. That
doctrine had been moulded into definite form, from the
Catholic doctrine of the real Presence, by Paschasius
Radbert, monk, and afterwards abbot of Corbie, who died
in 865. The novelty gradually grew into repute, though
strongly protested against by several able writers, such as
Ratramnus and Rabanus Maurus : it seemed to harmo-
nize with the general spirit and tone which theology was
tending to assume. But in Berengarius the new doctrine
found an opponent, though, from the prevalence of the
opposite opinion, his more orthodox views could only be
promulged at considerable risk. Of the controversies in
which he was involved we have an account in Labbe and
Cossart's Councils, in Cave, in Mosheim, and in Dupin ;

BERENGARIUS. 259

but the writer of this article has never seen the history of
these important events so fairly and yet briefly narrated
as in Bowdens life of Gregory VII; and the reader will
be indebted for the facts of the following narrative to Mr
Bowden, a true son of the Church, whose bright example
of christian excellence will be referred to with admiration
by all who knew him, while many more than those who
knew him personally have lamented his early death.

It was in the pontificate of Leo IX. in 1050, that
the troubles of Berengarius began. He had written to
Lanfranc, at that time master of the monastic school at
Bee, and eventually archbishop of Canterbury, who had
adopted a different view of the question, and had concluded
his letter, still extant, by asserting, that if he considered
Johannes Scotus a heretic for being opposed to the new
doctrine, now called transubstantiation, he must give the
same character to St Ambrose, St Jerome, St Augustine,
and others. Lanfranc was at Piome when the letter was
sent to him in Normandy : it was read, however, by some
of the clergy, commissioned probably to open his letters
during his absence, and by them forwarded with indignant
remarks to Rome. It was written in a friendly spirit, and
on that account it was insinuated that Lanfranc must
himself be inclined to the opinions of Berengarius. This
will account for Lanfranc's laying the letter before a synod
then assembled at Rome, where he disavowed all partici-
pation in the opinions of Berengarius, and Berengarius
himself absent and unheard was censured. And this sen-
tence was shortly confirmed by a council held, under the
same pontiff, at Vercelli. At this latter meeting, Beren-
garius was summoned to appear and defend himself ; and
he declares, — in his book " de Sacra Ccena," fol. 16 — that
he was -willing to have complied with the summons ; but
that the king of France, — who was. officially, the abbot of
the church to which he belonged, and whose leave it was
incumbent on him to procure for the journey, — prevented
and confined him. He presented himself, however, before
Hildebrand, when the latter held, as papal legate, a coun-

260 BERENGARIUS.

cil at Tours, in 1054. And in him he found, according
to his own account, a most favourable judge. Hildebrand
listened to his arguments with mildness and attention,
and himself so far supported those arguments, as to bring
to the council the works of many authors, and to refer the
prelates who sat with him to various passages, explaining
and confirming the tenets of the accused. The legate
indeed expressed a wish that Berengarius should present
himself before pope Leo in person ; that by his authority
the clamours against him might be definitely quelled ; and
the prelates of the council expressed themselves satisfied
when the archdeacon of Angers made before them, verbally
and in writing, the declaration — which he says he most
heartily did — " that the bread and wine of the altar are
truly after consecration the Body and Blood of Christ."

Confiding in his powerful friend, Berengarius, — when
summoned to Rome in 1059, during the pontificate of
Nicholas II — hesitated not to present himself before the
papal throne. But the result of this step must have sorely
disappointed him. Headed by the cardinal bishop Hum-
bert, the party of his opponents was predominant in the
Lateran. Hildebrand was unable efficiently to protect
him ; the pope was cold and unfriendly. Awed by the
tumultuous clamours around him, and at the same time
appalled by the fear of instant death, Berengarius felt his
firmness forsake him ; and renouncing the opinion which
he had till then maintained, he adopted, as his own, the
following confession :- —

"I, Berengarius . . . anathematize every heresy, and
more particularly that of which I have hitherto been ac-
cused ... I agree with the holy Roman Church . . . that
the bread and wine which are placed on the altar, are,
after consecration, not only a sacrament, but even the true
Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ ; and that these
are sensibly, and not merely sacramentally, but in truth,
handled and broken by the hands of the priest, and ground
by the teeth of the faithful. And this I swear by the holy
and consubstantial Trinity, and by these holy gospels of

BERENGARIUS. 261

Christ." Berengarius was then allowed to return to
France, where, freed from the urgent terrors which had
overpowered him, he soon showed, by returning to the
inculcation of his former doctrines, the insincerity of
his compulsory recantation. He continued, however,
some years unmolested. Alexander II, whether guided
by the dictates of his own mild disposition, or by the in-
fluence of his great minister and adviser, forbore from all
attempts to move him by public censures, or by any other
mode than that of friendly expostulation. And Gregory
VII. we may imagine, would willingly have allowed the
supposed heretic to continue in tranquillity. But as the
stoinns of his pontificate rolled more loudly, as party
spirit was kindled and aroused throughout the Western
church to daily increasing exacerbation, this subject,
among others, was taken up with clamour; and his
opponents, by whom Gregory's views on the subject
were more than suspected, saw, it is probable, in an
attack on Berengarius, a likely mode of assailing and
annoying the pontiff himself. The influence of the latter
over his conclave, grew feeble, his enemies, even in
his own councils, threatened to overpower him, — and
Gregory was at length compelled so far to yield to their
demands, as to summon Berengarius to appear and defend
himself before the council of November 1078. But, upon
its assembling, he acted the part of a friend to the accused.
Berengarius, with his concurrence, in lieu of repeating
the delaration made by him in 1059, made the following,
couched in more general and less stringent terms. " I
acknowledge that the bread of the altar, after consecration,
is the true Body of Christ, which was bom of the Virgin,
which suffered on the cross, and which sitteth on the right
hand of the Father ; and that the wine of the altar, after
it is consecrated, is the true Blood which flowed from the
side of Christ ; and what I pronounce with my mouth,
that I declare I hold in my heart, so help me God and
these holy Gospels."

And this confession was no sooner made than Gregory

262 BERENGARIUS.

declared that it was enough for the Faith, and enough for
those who must be fed with milk and not with strong
meat ; as St Augustine had said, ' What ye see on the
altar is bread and wine, as your eyes inform you ; but,
according to that which faith demands of you, the bread
is the Body of Christ, and the wine His Blood.' He pro-
claimed aloud that Berengarius was no heretic ; that the
universally reverenced Peter Damiani had, in his hearing,
spoken of the sacrifice of the Eucharist in terms opposed
to those insisted on by Lanfranc and his party ; and that
Lanfranc's authority was not to be set against that of an
actual son of the church of Rome, who, while not inferior
to Lanfranc in depth of learning, far excelled him as to
the zeal with which he studied the divine word, according
to the Lord's own command, ' Search the Scriptures.'
And thus, in appearance, were appeased the clamours of
the archdeacon's impugners. Dissatisfaction, however,
had been excited by what were considered the ambiguous
terms of the new confession. Benno, Gregory's inveterate
enemy, who was able to influence a powerful party in the
college of cardinals, was urgent in calling for a statement
more specific. And it was insisted on, that Berengarius
should be detained in Rome, till the more solemn council
of the following Lent should definitely decide upon his
case. With this demand Gregory was either unable, or
afraid, to refuse compliance, and Berengarius remained,
during the winter, in the papal city. But, as Lent ap-
proached, the pontiff anxiously endeavoured to discover
some means by which the necessity of calling upon him
to remodel his confession might be avoided. He first
resolved to call upon him to confirm, by oath, the confes-
sion which he had already made, and to submit to the
ordeal of hot iron in proof of his truth. With this pro-
posal the accused expressed himself ready to comply ; but,
while he was preparing himself for the trial by fasting and
prayer, Gregory announced a change of purpose. Sending
for Berengarius, he, in the presence of the bishop of Porto,
thus addressed him : —

BERENGARIUS. 263

* I doubt not thou thinkest rightly enough, and in
accordance with the Scriptures, respecting the sacrifice of
Christ ; but as I am accustomed, on doubtful occasions, to
appeal to the aid of the blessed Mary, I some days back
directed a certain monk, who is my friend, to implore,
with prayer and fasting, that she would show me with
certainty to which side of this controversy I should incline ;
to the end that I might henceforth remain fixed in my
opinion. He fulfilled my request, and brought me, after
a certain time, the blessed Virgin's answer. It was to
the effect that we need believe nothing respecting the
Sacrifice of Christ, but that which the Scriptures teach
us ; and that Berengarius teaches nothing in opposition
to them.'

And yet, — notwithstanding these demonstrations of
favour and intended support, — the pontiff was prevailed
upon, or compelled, to command the appearance of Beren-
garius, within a few days of this conference with him,
before the council of Lent, 1079, and to permit his op-
ponents to tender for his adoption, a confession in the
following re-modelled form : —

' I believe with my heart, and confess with my mouth,
that the bread and wine which are placed upon the altar,
through the mystery of holy prayer, and through the words
of our Redeemer, are substantially converted into the true,
proper, and life-giving Body and Blood of Jesus Christ
our Lord, so as, after consecration, to be the true body of
Christ which was born of the Virgin, which, as an offering
for the salvation of the world, hung upon the cross, which
sitteth at the right hand of the Father; and the true blood
of Christ which flowed from His side ; and this not only
by the sign and virtue of a sacrament, but in properness
of nature and truth of substance.'

Berengarius, in the exigency in which he was placed,
did not hesitate to pledge himself to this document, or
even, in compliance with the clamours of his accusers, to
swear that he adopted the words in the sense which they
put upon them, and not according to any secret meaning

264 BERENGARIUS.

of his own. And as he thus disarmed them from taking
any further measures against him, Gregory lost no time
in sending him to his home, publicly forbidding him to
teach any longer the obnoxious doctrine which he had
disavowed ; but at the same time directing a faithful friend
to accompany and protect him on his way; and furnishing
him with a commendatory letter, in which he denounced
the censures of the Church against all who should presume
to do to Berengarius, a son of the Roman Church, any
injury, or to stigmatize him as a heretic. Thus freed
from his difficulties, Berengarius, — as might have been
expected, — avowed, upon his return, his original opinions ;
and ascribed his formal disavowal of them to the fear of
instant death. But Gregory, however urged on the point
by the archdeacon's enemies, firmly refused, — and to the
end of his life persevered in the refusal, — to take any fur-
ther measures against him.

The reader will probably be surprised to find Hildebrand,
(Gregory VII,) taking the protestant side, when the novel
doctrine of transubstantiation was introduced into the
Church.

Berengarius continued during the remainder of his life
unmolested by his opponents ; and died in peace at an
advanced age, on the 6th of January, 1088, in his place
of retirement, the island of St Come, near Tours. Such
was his religious and moral excellence, that he died in the
odour of sanctity, the canons of Tours being accustomed
for ages to perform religious services annually over his
tomb, and his name being inserted in the menology of the
cathedral of Angers. This, to Romish writers has been
perplexing : they know that at the present time no one
could die in the odour of sanctity, according to the tenets
of Romanism, who should deny the doctrine of transubstan-
tiation ; and they are surprised to find the contrary the
fact, in the eleventh century. If they refer to history
their perplexities will cease : although Berengarius held
an unpopular doctrine, yet impartial men knew that his
was the ancient doctrine, and even if they differed from

BERKELEY. 265

him in opinion, they did not deem this difference a
ground for his condemnation. So thought Gregory VII,
and we may be sure that the pope was not singular in
his ideas upon the subject. Berengarius admitted the real
Presence, which is necessary to render the holy rite a
Sacrament in the strict sense of the term ; but he would
not admit that substantial change in the elements upon
which modern Romanists insist, in order that the Sacra-
mental elements may become legitimate objects of adora-
tion.— Cave. Dupin. Mosheim. Bowden.

Berkeley, George. This great and good man, a saint
of the Anglican Church, whose name is connected with
the memorable line of Pope :

To Berkeley every virtue under heaven ;

was born on the 12th of March, 1684, at Kelchoin, near
Thomas-town, in the county of Kilkenny, and from
Kilkenny school, where he received the first part of his
education, he removed at fifteen years of age to Trinity
college, Dublin, of which college he became a fellow in
1707. In that year he published his first work, which
had been written before he was twenty years of age,
Arithmetica absque Algebra aut Euclide demonstrata.

The Essay towards the new Theory of Vision, was
published in 1709. The author was then in his twenty-
fifth year. Reid, who has endeavoured, throughout his
Essays on the Powers of the Human Mind, to depreciate
the labours of Berkeley in the same field, admits that "The
Theory of Vision contains very important discoveries and
marks of great genius." The work indeed contains two
discoveries of very considerable importance, the one limited
to the science of optics, the other of much more general
application. First, Berkeley has clearly and very simply
shewn that the eye is incapable of conveying to the mind
the idea of distance, as measured from the spectator, by
observing that such distance must be represented by a

VOL. II z

266 BERKELEY.

line placed with its end towards the eye, which would of
course present to the eye a point only. Our notion of
optical distance is in fact acquired by a continual series of
experiments of the touch, and of the bodily motion required
to bring ourselves in contact with an object, the presence
of which only, but not its distance, is intimated to us by
certain impressions on the eye. An infant may be observ-
ed making those experiments, and stretching out its hand
several times short of the object whose presence has been
announced by the eye, before the distance is accurately
ascertained. Persons who lose the sight of one eye are
found also to require fresh experimental tuition in the
measuring of distances ; and persons born blind from
cataract, on being couched at mature years, have stated
that the objects touched their eyes. The treatise contains
many minor discoveries, also of considerable interest, with
reference to the science of optics, which flow naturally as
corollaries from the above ; and in particular the author
suggests that " What we see are not solids, nor yet planes
variously coloured, they are only diversity of colours." In
truth, if there were no colour there would be no visible
figure, as may easily be seen if one were to attempt to
delineate a circle or any other figure on a coloured surface
with a brush dipped in precisely the same colour : whilst
the colour is wet it will be in fact a different colour, and
will therefore shew the circle, but when it becomes dry
no figure will be visible for want of a difference of colour ;
so if there were nothing but white uncoloured light in
nature, and it were capable of passing freely through all
bodies assuming no shade, (i. e. no contrast of colour)
there would be no visible figure.

The second of the discoveries we have referred to is this,
that tangible figure is wholly distinct from visible figure ;
in other words, that the table we see is not that which we
touch. The table we see, if it be circular, will appear in
most positions an oval to the eye, it will be smaller as we
retire from it, and larger as we approach it, and will be

BERKELEY. >67

continually shifting its form as we alter our position, as
every person acquainted with drawing must be well aware.
These changes do not occur in the tangible table. Simple
as this remark appears, yet as Reid has observed, (in refer-
ence to this discovery) "the notion of extension and figure
which we get from sight only, and that which we get from
touch, have been so constantly conjoined from our infancy
that it required great abilities to distinguish them accu-
rately, and to assign to each sense what truly belongs to
it." This point, says Reid again, " Berkeley has laboured
through the whole of the Essay on Vision with that un-
common penetration and judgment which he possessed.
The experiment has in fact since been repeatedly made in
the cases of persons operated on for cataract to which they
had been subject from birth. They have been unable to
distinguish a dog, for instance, from a cat by sight till after
repeated trial, handling each animal first, and then looking
at it, as a child learns to refer the letters, when spelling;
to the pictures of the animals in his spelling-book. The
visible object is a translation of the tangible into another
language — aud vice versa."

We have said that this second discovery admits of
very general application. It must have originally required
much mental effort thus to sever ideas associated with
each other from the earliest period of our existence, and
there can be little doubt that Berkeley was thus led to his
more extended speculations on what has been usually
termed the existence of matter. In fact his great work,
entitled " The Principles of Human Knowledge," was pub-
lished-in 1710, the year after the New Theory of Vision,
and this was followed in 1713, by " Three Dialogues be-
tween Hylas and Philonous," in which the same views are
enforced, but in the more popular form of dialogues, writ-
ten, too, in a style to which nothing can be found com-
parable except that of Plato.

No work has been so much misunderstood, or mis-
represented, as "The Principles of Human Knowledge."
Berkeley was led by the brilliant results of his analysis of

268 BERKELEY.

the mental operations, relative to visible and tangible
figure, to apply his genius to a searching investigation of
the received notions as to material substance. It is now
admitted by all that these notions were in Berkeley's time
most unsatisfactory. We cannot here discuss the various
opinions of the ancient heathen philosophers on this con-
fessedly difficult subject, but they appear to have agreed
in regarding matter as co-eternal with, and therefore in-
dependent of, the Deity ; and the piety of Berkeley contri-
buted not a little to stimulate him in those researches,
which terminated (as it appeared to him) in a demonstra-
tion, that the very existence of matter independently of
the Divine mind, cannot even be conceived. The system
of the heathen philosophers was not, as far as regards the
eternity of matter, adopted by Christians ; but various un-
satisfactory explanations were resorted to for the purpose of
reconciling the dogmas of Aristotle with the accounts of
the creation, which it has pleased God Himself to reveal
to us. Des Cartes is entitled to the merit of venturing
among the first to question these dogmas or heathen tra-
ditions, as to the origin and nature of the inanimate world;
and his writings, together with those of other meta-
physicians down to and including Locke and Malebranche,
contributed no doubt to clear the way to those principles
which were regarded by Berkeley as the foundation of our
knowledge. But the difficulty was great with regard to the
nature of what has been called matter. The term itself
is derived from the old heathen philosophy, which treated
of it as the necessary eternal material from which the
Deity formed the world, it being with them a maxim that
" nothing can be made of nothing ;" for they never rose to
the conception of an all powerful mind which can originate,
or to the distinction between creating and making. They
imagined that the operations of creation required a sub-
stance to work on, as a human artist, in making a watch,
for instance, must be furnished with the brass and steel
of which it is formed. Now, whilst reasoning upon a
different basis, and admitting the creation of matter by

BERKELEY. Q09

God, the modern philosophers had great difficulty in
describing of what it consists. For, according to their view,
there was still a necessity for the substratum or ground-
work of all existing things perceived by the senses; but as
this matter must be common to every thing, it became
difficult to define what common thing there is in gold,
lead, stone, animal and vegetable frames, solids, liquids,
air, &c. And after much thought Locke was brought to
admit that extension, solidity, figure, and motion, were
the only qualities he could assign as essential to, and in-
separable from, matter ; whilst he conceived colour, sound,
taste, smell, heat, and cold, to be due to powers in given
bodies to excite those sensations in our minds. Now to
Berkeley this system appeared so vague that he was led to
analyze more clearly what it is which produces the im-
pression of the so-called matter in our minds, and whether
there be really any such common material substance as
was supposed. Take, for instance, a bell into your hands
and riDg it, what more do you know about it than this —
your eyes are impressed with one class of sensations, your
hands (with which you may feel the hardness and form of
the bell) with another, your ears with another, and to all
this combination of sensations you give the name of a
bell. But do you know the ultimate cause of any one
class of these sensations, namely, the colour, or sound,
any more than the ultimate cause of the hardness and
form which you feel with your hands ? Is it then a sound
distinction to say that solidity (or hardness) and figure
are essential qualities, resembling something in the body
itself, whilst the colour and sound are merely secondary
qualities arising from a power in the bell to excite them '?
or rather, in fact, are not the solidity and figure just as
much the objects of sensation as the colour and sound,
being perceived by the fingers and touch, instead of by
the eyes and ears. If you were to see a painted bell your
eyes would immediately inform you of one class of sensa-
tions, which, by former experience of your hands and ears,
z2

270 BERKELEY.

you have associated with the thing called a bell ; if a bell
without a clapper be presented to you, you bring another
class of sensations into play by touching it ; if the clapper
be added, another class of sensations is produced on ringing
it, and the bell is complete : but after all you have nothing
more than a series of sensations, nor, try as you will, can you
form any conception of matter which does not necessarily
involve on the one hand as its definition, that it is either
seen, heard, tasted, smelt, or felt, or which admits on the
other hand of any test of its existence except by means
of one of those senses at least. Berkeley was thus led to
conclude that what has been termed matter in reality means
nothing more than the fact of our consciousness of divers
bundles of sensations ; for, take away the hardness which
you feel, the weight which presses on your hand, the colour,
the sound of the bell, and what remains of the fancied sub-
stratum of all these? If this be so, it follows that the so-
called material objects are brought by analysis to a con-
sciousness of certain sensations. It follows that if there be
no existing being capable of consciousness, there is no
possibility of conceiving the existence of matter ; which
depends therefore for its very existence on mind, instead, as
the heathens supposed, being the necessary substratum for
mind to work on. But now let us revert to the instance
of the bell ; we find that the visible image impresses itself
necessarily on our eyes if we open them — the tangible on
our fingers if we stretch them out in a given direction,
namely, to the place where the bell is. These sensations
are wholly independent of our own will, quite different
from the recollections which we can bring up in our minds,
or from any other original act of our own : they are some-
thing therefore different from ourselves. The act of seeing,
&c, therefore gives us both the sensation and also a know-
ledge of the existence of a cause of it, independent of our
own minds. Here it is that Berkeley has been so much
misunderstood and misrepresented. He has never ques-
tioned the existence of a cause of our sensations indepen-

BERKELEY. 271

dent of ourselves ; but lie has said the existence of what is
called matter is the existence of sensations, and the exist-
ence of sensations implies the existence of a sentient
being, and that some such being must exist, or what has
been called matter cannot exist. He infers the existence
of other minds by shewing that many sensations occur
which we are conscious we did not originate, and cannot
terminate ; some of these are such as we would by due
instruction originate, and we infer, therefore, that they
have been originated by beings like ourselves. Thus if
we see a watch made by the watchmaker, or to use our
former instance, a bell, and find we could by being taught
make a watch or a bell ourselves, we infer the existence
of a mind similar to our own, which has originated the
peculiar combination of sensations before us, and which
we call by the names of watch and bell ; but if we ana-
lyze the component sensations into a simpler form, and
consider the sensations produced by the brass and steel,
and the sensations of their weight, hardness, and the like,
which we cannot originate, or conceive a being like our-
selves to have originated, we are led to infer the existence
of a creative Being, who originates that particular class of
sensations, and in whose mind they may exist even if all
created minds were destroyed. This Being, and not a
mysterious undefined substratum, then, is, accordino- to
Berkeley, the cause of all the varied combinations of sen-
sations to which we give names ; and He, i. e. God, has
willed that such sensations should come in associated
groups : e. g. that the bright sensation we call light should
usually te attended with the burning sensation of heat ;
it is not always so, for the glow worm, and fire fly, do not
burn, though a child would probably expect them to do
so. God might doubtless, if he pleased, at once cause
water to burn, and fire to occasion the sensation of cold.
Every thing called matter (as we perceive it) is, in other
words, a group of sensations, ordered according to a given
law, which law we did not originate, and cannot vary. It
is independent of, rather than external to, the mind ; for it

3751 BERKELEY.

is gross materialism to speak literally of the inside or out-
side of the mind, for mind is not extended, and has no
parts, like a cup or vessel : so that in talking of things
being external to the mind, all philosophers (except mate-
rialists) must be assumed to speak metaphorically.

We shall now perceive how much Berkeley has been
misrepresented by those who have pretended to refute
him ; aud as Reid is supposed by many to have succeeded
in such refutation, it will be sufficient to expose briefly
his mis-statement of the case. In one passage of his Essay
Reid states, correctly enough, that "Berkeley acknow-
ledges that material things have a real existence out of
the mind of this or that person, but that the question
between him and the materialist is, whether they have an
absolute existence distinct from their being perceived by
God ?" This is fairly stated, yet the same opponent after-
wards states the question thus, " How are we astonished
when the philosopher informs us that the sun and moon
which we see are not, as we imagine, many miles distant
from us and from each other, but that they are in our
owd mind ; that they had no existence before we saw
them, and will have none when we cease to perceive and
to think of them, because the objects we perceive are only
ideas in our own minds, which can have no existence a
moment longer than we think of them " He then pro-
ceeds to refute this last absurd supposition, which it is
needless to say is merely fighting with a shadow of his
own creation. The first extract alone contains Berkeley's
view, and the result of his whole system is this, — That
God, by an act of His will, causes our minds to have
certain sensations in uniform order, and uniformly asso-
ciated. How and in what form the Divine mind may be
conscious itself of sensations he, of course, presumes not
to say ; but to all men's minds these sensations occur
alike, whether men desire them or not, independently
therefore of any one man's mind, or of his thinking of
them.

Some very remarkable consequences are deducible

BERKELEY. 273

from Berkeley's views. His main object, indeed, was to
vindicate God's existence thereby, and he has beauti-
fully expanded this branch of the subject in his Minute
Philosopher. As one illustration we may mention his
conclusive argument against any difficulty arising from
God Himself not being the object of our senses — for nei-
ther are men such. Man makes himself known to us
indeed by voice, gesture, &c, through the medium there-
fore of our senses ; but who could say that any one of our
senses really perceives the sentient being constituting the
man. That invisible being does acts independent of and
similar to our own, and is therefore a real active being
like ourselves, but this is an inference only, though a sure
one. The same remark applies to God, His acts are per-
ceivable every where by such sensations as neither we nor
any one else like ourselves can originate, therefore, the
acts are originated by a Being above us, and all other
beings like us.

It was noticed by Arthur Collier, who, in 1713, published
a work called Clavis Universalis, and adopted the views of
Berkeley, though it is not clear that he had seen his
work, that the doctrine of transubstantiation is effectually
disposed of by this theory; for if the notion of a sub-
stratum be removed, then, where all the sensations are the
same, the thing or object must be the same.

The resolving also of cause and effect into a constant
sequence of certain sensations in given order, which was
afterwards dilated upon by Brown, is clearly stated by
Berkeley, whom Brown in the notes to his work abuses,
without acknowledging his obligations to him.

The view of Berkeley differed from that of Malebranche
materially, for the latter conceived that we saw all things
by our own mind's being united with the Deity, which
doctrine followed up would seem to lead to Pantheism,
and to destroy man's independent existence.

But, from the speculation of Berkeley, we must now
pass on to the consideration of the facts connected with
his life. He took his doctor's degree in 17^1, and the

274 BERKELEY.

year following he was made by Mrs Vanhomrich, Swift's
Vanessa, one of her executors, by which circumstance he
obtained a legacy of £4000. In 1724 he was advanced to
the deanery of Deny.

He might now, with the majority of his contemporaries,
have sought only his own ease and comfort. But his mind
had been employed on the truly Christian project of
converting " the savage Americans to Christianity by a
college to be erected on the Summer Islands, otherwise
called the Isles of Bermuda." It is easy to devise plans
of benevolence, to support their cause by eloquent speeches
and the plaudits of admiring friends, and by an annual
subscription of which the loss is scarcely felt. But dean
Berkeley was in earnest in the scheme that he proposed,
and immediately offered to resign his comfortable deanery,
the delights of literary society, and his large income, that
he might dedicate the remainder of his life to the instruc-
tion of youth in America, reserving to himself only £100
a-year. To the honour of the age it must be mentioned, that
three fellows of Trinity college, Dublin, were found ready
to follow his example, and to give up their fellowships,
and all those high prospects at home, to which a Dublin
fellowship was at that time supposed to lead. They went
with him, having a salary of £40 a-year. The plan being
sanctioned by George the First and his ministers, a grant
of £20,000 was made for the establishment of the college,
and, in 1728, our noble-minded missionary sailed for
America. In America he remained for two years and a
half at Newport, in Rhode Island, winning the love and
respect of all who approached him. He rallied around
him the few Catholic clergy who were then in America,
who held a kind of quarterly synod at his house, and he
was busily employed in preaching the gospel, and in
administering the sacraments in various destitute places,
while to the church at Newport he presented an organ
for the more decent celebration of the divine offices. But
notwithstanding his exertions, every attempt to realize the
object which took him across the Atlantic failed. The

BERKELEY. 275

money which had been voted to him had been appropriated
by government in another way ; and when bishop Gibson
applied to sir Robert Walpole upon the subject, the reply
of the minister was, " If you put this question to me as
minister, I must and can assure you that the money shall
most undoubtedly be paid as soon as suits the public
convenience ; but if you ask me as a friend whether dean
Berkeley should continue in America, expecting the pay-
ment of £20,000, I advise him by all means to return
home to Europe, and to give up his present expectations.'-
Mortifying as this circumstance was, Dr Berkeley had
nothing else to do than to follow the advice of bishop
Gibson, his diocesan, and to submit. With his usual
generosity, he gave his house and a hundred acres of
cultivated land around it to Yale and Haward colleges,
and he gave books to the value of £500 to those in-
stitutions and the clergy of Rhode Island ; and quitted
America in September, 1731.

On his return home he published that masterly per-
formance, the Minute Philosopher, in which he pursues
the free-thinker through the various characters of atheist,
libertine, enthusiast, scorner, critic, metaphysician, fatalist,
sceptic; and employs against him, with peculiar dexterity,
several new weapons drawn from the storehouse of his own
ingenious system of philosophy. It is written in a series
of dialogues on the model of Plato, and it seemed to the
late bishop Jebb to be so well adapted to the present age,
that this admirable prelate designed a re-publication of it
with notes of his own, had he not been summoned to his
rest before he could accomplish this and other useful
works, which he contemplated for the benefit of the
Church.

Dr Berkeley was at this time a frequent guest at those
hebdomadal parties which Caroline, the queen of George II,
was accustomed to give to persons of established intellec-
tual celebrity. Here he had the honour of being supported
by Sherlock, and perhaps the greater honour of being
opposed by Hoadly and Clarke.

276 BERKELEY.

In May, 1733, he was consecrated bishop of Cloyne.
In 1745 he had the offer of the more valuable bishopric of
Clogher, but refused to leave his diocese, where he con-
stantly resided, and to the duties of which he paid
unremitting attention. In like manner when he might
have obtained the primacy he declined it, saying, " I
desire to add one more to the list of churchmen who are
dead to avarice and ambition."

Soon after his consecration he published the Analyst,
in which he argues that mathematical knowledge makes
far larger demands than Christianity, upon the implicit
acquiescence of mankind.

Towards the close of life his health failed him, and
finding relief from tar water, he published his Siris ; a
wonderful instance of the fertility of his genius, and at
the same time of the weakness of the strongest minds. It
was written to establish the virtues of tar water as a
medicine, and the effects ascribed to it are such as quack
advertisers of all times attribute to their medicines.
They, however, wilfully deceive ; Berkeley was induced to
generalize hastily on a subject on which he had but very
partial knowledge, by a wish to impart to others the bene-
fits he conceived he had derived from the medicine. But
his fruitful mind could not be stirred on any subject in
vain ; the weeds indicated the fertility of the soil, and the
Essay on Tar Water concludes with some of the most soul
ennobling disquisitions on high and abstruse points of
philosophy and divinity. It is divided into ten sections,
the first of which is " Tar Water how made." The fourth to
the seventh represent it as "A cure for foulness of blood,
ulceration of bowels, lungs, consumptive coughs, pleurisy,
peripneumony, erysipelas, asthma, indigestion, cachectic
and hysteric cases, gravel, dropsy, and all inflammations."
And the last sections are " The Study of Plato recom-
mended, who agrees with Scripture in many particulars.
His opinion of the Deity, and particularly of a Trinity,
agreeable to Revelation."

BERNARD, 277

He now longed to retire from public life, and while
preparing for the great change awaiting him, to give him-
self up to meditation. He wished to make Oxford his
residence, that he might at the same time superintend
the education of his son. He asked, therefore, to exchange
his bishopric for a canomy of Christ-church. It is a sad
infliction upon the English church that no provision is
made for the retirement of bishops when they become too
infirm for their work. Bishop Berkeley was not allowed
to resign; but having obtained permission to reside where
he pleased, he made a series of liberal arrangements at
Cloyne, and then went to die at Oxford. He settled
there in July, 1752, and died in January, 1753. He was
placidly listening while his wife was reading the burial
service, when he fell asleep in Jesus. So peaceful was
the passage of his soul to the Church triumphant, that his
death was not discovered by those around him, until he
had become stiff and cold. Of him bishop Atterbury
said, " So much understanding, knowledge, innocence,
and humility, I should have thought confined to angels,
had I never seen this gentleman."

The facts are taken chiefly from the life of Berkeley
prefixed to his works, and from the works themselves.

Bernard, of Clairvaux, commonly called St Bernard,
has been styled the last of the fathers, because he stands,
as it were, on the confines of the system of the early
Church, which contemplated God as He is in Himself,
and that of the later ages, in which the mysterious deal-
ings of God with the soul of the individual Christian
were minutely analyzed. He wrote from Scripture and the
fathers, and came not into that form of theology called
scholastic, which, commencing in his time, became after-
wards generally prevalent. He was born of a noble
family, at Fontaines, near Dijon, in Burgundy, in the
year 1091. His early education devolved on his pious
mother, Aletta, his father, Tecelin, being too much en-
gaged in deeds of arms to attend to the claims of his

VOL. II. 2 A

BERNARD.

family. Dedicated by his mother to the service of the
Church, from the time of his birth, he received the educa-
tion necessary for holy orders at Chatillon ; but he lost
the mother who had hitherto watched and prayed for
him when he arrived at the age of fifteen. We have an
account of Aletta*s death from a contemporary author, and
as characteristic of the times it is here presented to the
reader : —

•■ Aletta was accustomed to celebrate the festival of
St Ambrose, the patron of the church of Fontaines, by
an annual feast, to which the neighbouring clergy were
invited. On the vigil of that day, she was seized with a
violent fever which confined her to her bed." (It appears
that she had had a presentiment of her approaching death,
which she had communicated to her husband and family. |
" The next morning, she requested that the Holy Com-
munion might be administered to her, and feeling strength-
ened after its reception, she desired that the clergy would
sit down to the feast she had provided. While they were
at table, she sent for her eldest son Guido, and desired
that he would request the company to repair to her cham-
ber, when the repast was ended. When they were assem-
bled, and standing round her bed, Aletta calmly announced
that the moment of her departure was at hand, and en-
treated their prayers. The ministers of the Lord began
to read the litany, Aletta herself making the responses,
as long as her breath lasted : but when the choir reached
that veisicle, " By thy cross and passion, good Lord deli-
ver us,"' the dying woman, commending her soul to God,
raised her hand to make the sign of the cross, and in that
attitude she expired ; giving up her spirit to the angels,
by whom it was carried to the abode of the just. There
it awaits in peace the re-union with the body at the great
day of the resurrection, when our Lord and Advocate,
- Christ, shall come to judge the quick and the dead."'
Joan. Erem. p. 1300.

>r says of Aletta. " She was often to be seen
alone and on foot, on the road between Fontaines and

BERNARD. ul9

Dijon, visiting the cottages of the poor, and carrying pro-
visions and remedies to the sick and afflicted, and adminis-
tering instruction and spiritual consolation to them. She
never allowed her domestics to assist her in these offices,
so that it might truly be said, that her left hand knew
not what her right hand performed. Aletta was buried at
Dijon, where her remains reposed for 140 years, at the
end of which time they were removed to Clairvaux."

In vain did the young nobles of his own age endeavour
to dissuade Bernard from embracing a monastic life : he
found little attraction in worldly pleasure, or in chivalrous
exercises ; and though in the study of literature he might
have found a more congenial pursuit, after a little waver-
ing, he determined to fulfil the wishes of that beloved
mother, to whose early instructions he was so deeply
indebted. With reference to this determination, Bernard
said in after years to his monks :

" I am not ashamed to confess, that often, and par-
ticularly at the beginning of my conversion, I expe-
rienced great hardness of heart, and an extreme coldness.
I sought after Him, whom my soul would fain love.
Him, in whom my frozen spirit might repose and
re-arjimate itself. But none came to succour me, and
dissolve this strong ice which bound up all the spiritual
senses, and to revive the sweetness and serenity of the
spiritual spring, and thus my soul continued feeble and
listless, a prey to grief, almost to despair, and murmuring
internally. Who is able to abide His frost? Then on a
sudden, and perhaps at the first word, or at the first sight
of a spiritually- minded person, sometimes at the bare
recollection of one dead or absent, the Holy Spirit would
begin to breathe, and the waters to flow ; then would tears
be my meat day and night."

Xot only did Bernard determine to embrace the mon-
astic life himself, but he was eloquent in persuading
others to do the same. We subjoin one of Bernard's
letters, as a specimen of the mode of argument he used
with his friends :

280 BERNARD.

" The zeal which animates me is not of carnal growth,
it springs from the desire of co-operating with you in
working out our salvation. Nobility, strength, beauty, the
pleasures of youth, the riches of the earth, palaces, places
of dignity, the wisdom of this world, all these are to be
found in the world. But how long will they last ? They
will vanish with the world, — before the world, — for in the
twinkling of an eye you will, yourself, have left the world.
Life is short, the world passeth away, and you will pass
awav before it. Why not then cease from loving that
which will soon cease to be ? Oh my brother, come with-
out delay, and unite yourself to a man who loves you with
a sincere and lasting affection. Even death will not
separate two hearts that religion has joined. The hap-
piness which I desire for you, has respect neither to time
nor to the body, and will subsist independent of either.
And not only so ; it will increase when the body is de-
stroyed, and when ' there shall be no more time.' And
what comparison is there between this happiness and that
offered by the world ? The supreme good is that, of which
nothing can deprive you. And what is that ? Eye hath
not seen, nor ear heard it ; neither hath it entered into
the heart of man to conceive it, for flesh and blood are
incapable of it, it must be revealed to us by the Spirit of
God. Blessed are they who have understood this word,
' Ye are my friends, what I have heard of my Father that
have I shown you.' " Ep. 107.

On another occasion, in writing to a young man, who
was wavering in his resolution, he says, " Why should you
be surprised to find yourself still fluctuating between good
and evil, before you have yet placed your feet on the solid
ground? Oh that you could apprehend my meaning!
Only Thou, my God, must discover to the eye of man, the
things which Thou hast prepared for them that love Thee.
'Come unto me,' saith the Saviour, 'all ye that labour
and are heavy laden, and I will refresh you.' Do you fear
then to want strength, when it is the Truth that has pro-

BERNARD. 281

inised to support you? May God grant you the knowledge
of His law, and of His will." Ep. -206.

His humility prevented him from forming a new-
religious order, like other men of eminent piety, his
contemporaries; and his enthusiasm and the reality of his
religious impressions induced him to seek the most poorly
endowed abbey with which he was acquainted. This was
the convent of Citeaux, (Cistercians) situated in a barren
wilderness iu the diocese of Chalons-sur-Saone, and founded
in the year 1098 by Robert, a nobleman of Champagne.
Over this convent, in which the Benedictine rule was
observed with more than its primitive severity, Stephen
Harding, an Englishman, presided. To this monastery,
at the age of twenty-three, Bernard retired with more than
thirty associates, including among the number four of his
brothers. With a delicate constitution, he quitted the
luxuries of aristocratic life, and entered the strictest order
of the day, to become a poor man, a rustic ; for manual
labour in the fields sometimes, and sometimes in the
kitchen, and in sweeping the dormitory, formed part of
the rule. He was never willing to give up this portion of
the discipline, though his delicate frame could ill bear the
fatigue. He is said to have become an expert reaper.
But bodily labour was not suffered to preclude mental
exertion, and it was in the cloister of Citeaux that Bernard
acquired his wonderful knowledge of the Scriptures,
meditating upon them before the morning light. Even
during his labours in the field he could bring his mind to
sacred meditation, and his feelings were alive to the in-
spiring beauties of inanimate nature : at a later period of
his life we find him saying, "take the testimony of my own
experience, and, believe me, thou wilt find more in woods
than in books ; and trees and stones will teach thee more
than thou canst learn from man." The subject of his
continual meditations was the sufferings of our blessed
Lord and Saviour. It was from meditating on hi-
viouris cross that he was so eager to take up his own. He

282 BERNARD.

was wont to compare this exercise, says Neander, to the
nosegay of myrrh, that the spouse in the Canticles had
gathered with pious care to plant in her bosom. In one
of the sermons on the Canticles he thus expresses himself
on the subject: — " From the very beginning of my con-
version, my brethren, feeling my own great deficiency in
virtue, I appropriated to myself this nosegay of myrrh,
composed of all the sufferings and the pains of my Saviour;
of the privations to which He submitted in His childhood ;
the labours that He endured in His preaching; the fatigue
that He underwent in His journeyings ; of His watchings
in prayer, His temptations in fasting, His tears of compas-
sion; of the snares that were laid for Him in His words ;
of His perils among false brethren ; of the outrages, the
spitting, the smiting, the mockery, the insults, the nails ;
in a word, of all the grief of all kinds that He submitted to
for the salvation of man. I have discovered that wisdom
consists in meditating on these things, and that in them
alone is the perfection of justice, the plenitude of know-
ledge, the riches of salvation, and the abundance of merit ;
and in these contemplations I find relief from sadness,
moderation in success, and safety in the royal highway of
this life ; so that I march on between the good and evil,
scattering on either side the perils by which I am menaced.
This is the reason why I always have these things in my
mouth, as you know, and always in my heart, as God
knows ; they are habitually recurring in my writings, as
every one may see ; and my most sublime philosophy is to
know Jesus Christ, and Him crucified/' Serm. 43, in
Cant. C antic.

The reputation of Bernard drew many votaries to Ci-
teaux, where, till his appearance among them, the society
had long lived in apprehension of gradual extinction; for
persons naturally dreaded an asceticism which, however
admirable according to the notions of the age, they con-
sidered to be above the ordinary strength of man. But the
influence and the example of Bernard changed the whole

BERNARD. 033

aspect of affairs, and devotees from all quarters nocked to
the convent. In 1115, Bernard was sent by the abbot
with twelve associates to found a uew establishment on
the Cistercian system. The site had been granted to the
abbot Stephen Harding, by Hugo, a knight of Champagne,
who had been previously urged by devotional feeling to
undertake a pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre, and who
subsequently joined the knights templars. It was a wild
and desolate spot, in the bishopric of Langres. The place
was called, for some unknown reason, the Valley of Worm-
wood, (Vallis Absinthialis) and had been the haunt of
robbers ; but since the extirpation of this plant it had
been called the clear or bright valley, (Clara-vallis) or
Clair- vaux. To found a monastery here Bernard was sent
from Citeaux. The ceremonial observed was simple and
affecting. After a solemn service, the newly-elected abbot
received from the hands of the president of the monastery
a cross ; he then rose, and quitted the church, followed
by his twelve associates, and, having taken leave of the
brethren, the community departed chanting an appropriate
psalm. "When," says the Cistercian Chronicle, "Bernard
and his twelve monks silently took their departure from
the church, you might have seen tears in the eyes of all pre-
sent, while nothing was to be heard but the voices of those
who were singing the hymns ; and even those brethren
could not repress their sobs, in spite of that sense of reli-
gion which led them to make the strongest efforts to com-
mand their feelings. Those who remained, and those
who departed, were all involved in one common sorrow,
till the procession reached that gate which was to open for
some, and to close upon the rest." Ann. Cist. 1. n. 6, 7,
p. 79.

Clairvaux and Morimont, founded in 1115, with the
abbeys of La Ferto and Pontigny, established the one in
the year 1113, the other in 1114, were called Les quatres
filles de Citeaux.

The work in which they were engaged was no easy task,
and no very agreeable duty : the privations to which the

284 BERNARD.

poor monks were obliged for many months to submit are
almost unheard of. Incessantly occupied in the erection
of their monastic buildings, they had no opportunity of
gaining their bread by their labours ; and, as they had
taken possession of the marshy desert that had been given
up to them too late for sowing the ground, the earth of
course yielded them no fruits : and the neighbouring pro-
prietors, who had at first testified great admiration at the
conduct of the devotees, and vied with each other in ad-
ministering to their wants, became equally familiar with
their sanctity and their necessities, and ceased to regard
either. A coarse bread made of barley and millet, and
beech leaves cooked in salt and water, formed their only
nourishment ; and this, too, at the beginning of the winter
season. At last their supply of salt was exhausted, and
the hearts of some of the fraternity began to fail them ;
but Bernard, calling to him one of the brethren, desired
him to take the ass and buy salt at the market. The man
prepared to do the bidding of his superior, but before he
set out he asked for money to pay for the commodity.
" Take faith," replied Bernard, "for as to money I know
not when we shall have any ; but He who holds my purse
in His hands, and who is the depository of my treasure, is
above." The monk smiled, and rejoined, " It seemeth to
me, my father, that if I go empty handed, I shall return
empty handed." " Nevertheless, go," replied the abbot ;
" and go in faith. I tell thee that our Great Treasurer
will be with thee, and will supply all thy necessities."
On this the poor friar, after receiving the benediction of
his superior, set out with the ass on his journey. On his
way "the God of all consolation was pleased to assist him,
says the chronicler ; for, meeting a priest who accosted
him, and inquired his business, Guibert (for that was the
name of the messenger) told his errand, and made known
the penury of his convent ; and the priest, touched with
compassion, took him to his own home, and supplied him
abundantly with all sorts of provisions. On Guibert's
return with his replenished panniers, Bernard said to him,

BERNARD. 285

" I tell you, my son, nothing is more necessary to a Chris-
tian than faith : hold fast faith, and it will be well with
thee all the days of thy life." These succours, and others
equally unexpected, were however merely temporary, and
Clairvaux soon relapsed into a condition of absolute desti-
tution. The monks, exposed to cold and hunger and
other privations, gave themselves up to despair, and openly
manifested their wish of returning to Citeaux. Bernard
himself was so far overpowered by witnessing the moral
and personal sufferings of his brethren, that his health gave
way, and he became incapable of preaching to them, and
they were thus deprived at once of bodily and of spiritual
sustenance. This state of things, which lasted sixteen or
seventeen months, required all the influence and exertion
of Bernard to prevent the utter dissolution of the infant
establishment, and to turn this severe trial to the advan-
tage of his brethren. At the expiration of this term many
rich offerings were made to the convent, and the ground
first broken by the labours of the starving monks, began
to yield them her fruit, and to supply their most urgent
necessities.

Of this monastery Bernard became the first abbot, and
by his energy, talent and self-denial, which seemed in the
eyes of his contemporaries to be miraculous, he soon ren-
dered the Cistercian order celebrated : nine abbeys in the
short space of five years sprung from Citeaux, and a con-
stitution was formed for the rising order. Men of illus-
trious descent, who had formerly played a distinguished
part on the theatre of the world, now by their hard labour,
in the sweat of their brow, and by their ascetic self-denial,
followed the example of Bernard. The most costly offer-
ings were presented to the convent, and prepared for
Clairvaux the great wealth that in the course of some
decades of years it acquired.

" The wealth of the convents," as Neander remarks, " was
advantageous to the state, because the monks knew how to
make the best use of it. In times of scarcity they often
supplied hundreds of the poor with food. On occasion of

286 BERNARD.

a great scarcity in Burgundy, the starving peasants nocked
in such numbers to Clairvaux, that Bernard, finding he
could not hope to afford nourishment to all till the next
harvest, selected tivo thousand, whom he distinguished by
a particular mark (accepit sub signaculo), and engaged to
support entirely, while the rest received some smaller alms.
V. Joh. Eremit. vit. Bernard, lib. ii. N. 6. ap. Mabill. t, ii.
The monks of the Prsemonstratensian abbey, founded by
Norbert, undertook, in his absence, to supply five hundred
poor persons with food during a scarcity. V. vit. Norbert.
The clergy in general promoted the exercise of benevolence.
The highly-esteemed Hugh, bishop of Grenoble, finding
his resources inadequate to support the numbers who
resorted to him during a famine, sold all his costly
church plate, to buy food for them. Bernard instructed his
friend the count Theobald, " eleemosynas ea sagacitate
dispone re, ut semper fructificantes redivivis et renascen-
tibus accessionibus novas semper eleemosynas parturiunt,"
1. ii. auct. Ernald. cap. viii. N. 52."

The extreme mortifications of Bernard impaired his
health so much, that on one occasion William of Cham-
peaux, bishop of Chalons-sur-Marne, to whom he applied
for abbatical ordination, interfered, and obtained from the
Cistercian chapter the superintendence of his friend for
one year. He caused a sort of hut to be erected for him
beyond the cloisters, where he was to remain for a year,
without interfering in any way with the affairs of the
monastery: but it does not appear from the account which
is given of his retreat by his friend the abbot, William of
St. Thierry, he was much benefited by the change."

"It was," says he, "about this time (1116) that my
visits to Clairvaux commenced, and, coming to see the
saint in company with another abbot, I found him in
his cell, which was similar to those usually assigned to
leprous persons on the highways. He had been re-
lieved from the presidence of the convent by the com-
mands of the bishop and the chapter, and was then
enjoying a state of perfect tranquillity, living to God, and

BERNARD. 287

transported with joy, as though he had already tasted the
delights of Paradise. When I entered this chamber of
royalty, and began to contemplate the lodgings and the
guest, I was penetrated with the most profound respect ;
and, on entering into conversation with this man, I found
such vivacity and such a sweetness in his discourse, that
I conceived a strong desire to remain with him, and to
share his poverty ; so that, if I could have chosen my lot
among all the world has to offer, I should have desired
none other than that of staying always with the man of
God as his servitor.

" After he had welcomed us with gracious kindness, we
proceeded to ask what he did, and how he passed his life in
this cell. He replied with that benevolent smile which is
habitual to him, ' I do well, very well here ; for formerly
reasonable beings submitted themselves to my orders ;
now, by the just judgment of God, I am obliged to submit
myself to a man devoid of reason. ' This he said in refer-
ence to a conceited quack who had boastfully engaged to
cure him, and to whose charge he had been committed by
the bishop and the community. We sat at table with
him, expecting to find him under the strictest regimen for
the re-establishment of his precious health, so essential to
all; but when we saw him served, and by the doctor's
orders, with viands so coarse and revolting (lumps of
rancid butter coustituted part of the fare), that a hungry
person in good health would scarcely be persuaded to touch
them, we were indignant, and our vow of silence alone
withheld us from treating this empiric as a murderer and
sacrilegious person. For the man of God, he was indif-
ferent to these things, having lost all power of discrimin-
ating the flavour of meats, his stomach being entirely dis-
ordered, and incapable of performing its functions." (It
appears from the details that Bernard had cempletely lost
the power of digesting any sort of food.)

" Such was the state in which I found this servant of
Jesus Christ; such was his manner of life in his solitude ;

288 BERNARD.

but he was not alone, — God and His holy angels were
with him."

Of the diet commonly observed at Clairvaux, we have
an account in the record of the visit of pope Innocent : —

" The bread, instead of being of fine wheaten flour, was
of bran mingled with flour ; instead of sweet wine, there
was the juice of herbs (sap a, evidently the modem soup) ;
and, in the place of all kinds of meat, there was nothing
but vegetables ; or if, by chance, there happened to be any
fish, it was placed before our lord the pope, rather to be
looked at than to be eaten." Ernald. cap. i. No. 6, p. 1109.

The following is a copy of a translation of the Benedic-
tine rule, given by Fosbrooke : —

" Abbot to represent Christ — to call all his monks to
council in important affairs, and afterwards adopt the
advice he thought best. Obedience without delay ; silence ;
no sensuality, idle words, or such as excite laughter;
humility; patience in all injuries ; manifestation of secret
faults to the abbot ; contentment with the meanest things
and employments ; not to speak unasked ; to avoid laugh-
ter ; head and eyes inclined downwards ; to rise to church
two hours after midnight; every week the psalter to be
sung through ; to leave the church altogether, at a sign
from the superior ; a dean over every ten monks in large
houses ; light in the dormitory ; to sleep clothed, with
their girdles on, the young and old intermixed. Upon
successless admonition and public reprehension, excom-
munication; and, in failure of this, personal chastise-
ment. For light faults, the smaller excommunication,
or eating alone after the others had done ; for great faults,
separation from the table, prayers, and society, and
neither himself nor food to receive the benediction ; those
who joined him, or spoke to him, to be themselves ex-
communicated ; the abbot to send seniors to persuaJe
him to humility, and making satisfaction; the whole con-
gregation to pray for the offender, and, if successless,
to proceed to expulsion. No person expelled to be

BERNARD. 289

received after the third expulsion. Children to be
punished by fasting or whipping. Cellarer to do nothing
without the abbofs order, and in large houses to have
assistants. Habits and goods of the house to be in the
hands of proper officers, the abbot to have an account of
them. No property; distribution according to every one's
necessities. The monks to serve weekly, and by turns, at
the kitchen and table. On leaving their week, he that
leaves and he that begins it, to wash the feet of the others,
and on Saturday to clean all the plates, and the linen
which wiped the others' feet. To resign the dishes clean
and whole to the cellarer, who delivers them to the new
hebdomadary. Those officers to have drink and food
above the common allowance, before the others, that they
may wait upon them cheerfully. The hebdomadaries,
both entering and retiring from office, were, on solemn
days, to continue till the masses ; after matins on the
Sunday, to kneel and beg the others to pray for them ;
then, those going out, to say a certain prayer three times,
and receive the benediction ; the one coming in to do the
same, and, after benediction, to enter into office.

" Infirmary — its offices. Use of the baths, and flesh
for the sick ordered. Rule mitigated to children and old
men, who had leave to anticipate the hours of eating.
Refection in silence, and reading Scripture during meals.
"What was wanted, to be asked for by a sign. Reader to be
appointed for the week. Two different dishes at dinner,
with fruit. One pound of bread a-day, for both dinner
and supper. No meat but to the sick. Three-quarters
of a pint of wine daily. From Holyrood to Lent, dine at
nones ; in Lent till Easter, at six o'clock ; from Easter to
Lentward, at sextand all summer, except on Wednesdays
and Fridays, then at nones. Collation or spiritual lecture
every i ight before complin (after supper), and, complin
finished, silence. Loss of rank, subtraction of wine or
their allowance, or sitting in the place of disgrace, for
tardiness at church or table. Prostration with the face to
vol. ii -2 b

290 BERNARD

the ground, without the church gate, when the monks
went to pray, for the excommunicated. Immediate pardon
to be sought for. A fault in the chant, faults in other
places, or breaking anything, to be spontaneously acknow-
ledged before the abbot and congregation. Abbot to give
the signal for goiug to church, and nobody to sing or read
there without his leave. Work from prime till near ten
o'clock; from Easter till Cal. October, from ten till near
twelve, reading. After refection, at twelve the meridian
or sleep, unless any one preferred reading. After nones,
labour again till the evening. From Cal. Oct. to Lent,
reading till eight a. m. ; then trine, and after labour till
nones. After refection, reading or psalmody. In Lent,
reading till trine ; doing what was ordered till ten ; deli-
very of the books at this season made. Senior to go
round the house, and see that the monks were not idle.
On Sunday all read, except the officers, and the idle and
the infirm, who had work given them. Particular abstin-
ence in Lent from meat, drink, and sleep, and especial
gravity. Monks travelling, to say the canonical hours
wherever they may happen to be. Monks staying out
beyond a day not to eat abroad without the abbot's leave.
No other use than that of prayer to be made of the
church. Strangers to be received with prayers by them
and the monks ; the kiss of peace, prostration, and wash-
ing their feet, as of Christ, whom they represented ; then
to be led to prayer, the Scriptures read to them ; after
which the prior might break his fast (except on a high
fast.) Abbot's kitchen distinct from that of the visitors,
so that the monks might not be disturbed by the entrance
of guests at unreasonable hours. No letters or presents
to be received without the abbot's leave. Abbot to invite
his monks when he had no strangers. Workmen in the
house to labour for the common profit. Novices to be
tried by denial and hard labour before admission ; rule
read to them in the interim every fourth month ; admitted
by a petition laid upon the altar, and prostration at the

BERNARD. S91

feet of all the monks. Parents to offer their children
by wrapping their hands in the pall of the altar, pro-
mising to leave nothing to them ; and, if they gave any-
thing with them, reserving the use of it during their lives.
Priests requesting admission to be tried by delays ; to sit
near the abbot, but not to exercise sacerdotal functions
without leave, and to conform to the rule. Strange
monks to be received, and if good, entreated to stay.
Monks ordained priests, to be subject to the rule and
officers, or else expelled. Precedence, according to the
time of profession. Elders to call the juniors brothers,
the juniors to call the elders nonnos ; the abbot Dominus
or Peter. When two monks met, the junior was to ask
benediction of the senior ; and when he passed by, the
junior was to rise and give him his seat, nor to sit till he
had time. Abbot to be elected by the whole society, and
plurality of votes, his life and prudence to be the qualifi-
cations. Prior elected by the abbot, deposable for dis-
obedience. Porter to be a wise old man, able to give and
receive an answer ; he was to have a cell near the gate,
and a junior for a companion. If possible to prevent
evagation ; water, mill, garden, oven, and all other mecha-
nical shops, to be within the house. Monks going on a
journey to have previous prayers of the house, and on
return to pray for pardon of excesses by the way. Impos-
sible things ordered by the superior to be humbly repre-
sented to him ; but if he persisted, the assistance of God
to be relied on for their execution. Not to defend or
excuse one another's faults. No blows or excommunica-
tion without the permission of the abbot. Mutual obedi-
ence, but no preference of a private person's commands
over those of a superior. Prostration at the feet of the
superiors as long as they were angry." Sanctorum Pa-
trum Reg. Monast. Louv. 12mo. 1571, fol. 9. 51. Job.
de Turrecremata. Concordia Regularum, &c. &c.

After his return to the monastery, Bernard found it
necessary to relax somewhat of his austerity, and in after
years regretted the excesses to which his enthusiasm had

292 BERNARD.

led him, as tending to interfere with his usefulness by
unduly reducing his strength. He was indeed called to
active life at an early age, his opinion, advice, and medi-
ation being sought by all persons and all classes, and his
energetic mind thrusting him forward upon every occasion
when the welfare of the Church was concerned.

The influence of Bernard over the minds of men of all
classes seems to have been perfectly marvellous, and must
in part be accounted for by the fact, that he lived up to
the standard of religious excellence which was at that
time set before the minds of men, so far as the infirmities
of human nature would permit. He was single-minded,
he had no selfish objects in view ; his simple desire was
to promote the interests of religion, and maintain the
purity and independence of the Church, and this he was
prepared to do at all hazards against monarchs and
against the pope himself. He was fearless of man, and of
his integrity no one could entertain a doubt. It is aston-
ishing what one man may do, if he can obliterate every
selfish feeling and motive. Then again, his extreme
vivacity and the fiery energy of his manner produced such
an impression upon the minds of men, even of those who
only saw him and heard nothing but the sound of his
voice, that, as it is related in his life, when he preached to
the Germans, they were moved to tears by his exhorta-
tions without having understood a single word of the
language in which they were uttered. The thinness of
his slightly built frame, only made people think of the
precious soul which that frail earthen vessel contained.
His neck especially was very long and delicate, and his
personal appearance such as to attract attention. We
have an instance on record of the manner in which he
turned this to advantage on a particular occasion : when at
a later period of life he had been preaching at Toulouse,
at the conclusion of his sermon, he was about to mount
his horse, when one of the sectaries came forward, and
called aloud to him, " Know, my lord abbot, that the
horse of our master, against whom you have been speaking

BERNARD. 293

so freely, is by no means so fat and well-conditioned as
yours." Bernard, without manifesting the least disturb-
ance, replied with a good-humoured glance at the man,
" I do not deny it, my friend; but I would thou shouldst
remember that this is a boast for the which thou dost
reprove me. Now, to be fat and well-conditioned is suit-
able to the nature and appointment of beasts ; and God,
who will not judge us for such matters, is not thereby
offended ; but every man shall answer for himself." And
so saying, he threw back his cowl, and discovered his
wasted throat, and thin and withered countenance ; and
this was to the people the most conclusive refutation of
the sectarian.

No restraint was felt by Bernard in addressing persons
of higher station in thp. Church than himself, and simple
monk, as he was, he did not feel that he was stepping out
of his line when, for the good of the Church, he thought
it expedient to admonish bishops and archbishops. We
have an instance of this in the case of Henry of Sens, one
of the most distinguished of the French prelates, who on
his determining to amend his life, which had not been
strictly episcopal, received from Bernard a treatise on the
duties of a bishop. Such was the object of Bernard's
work, De moribus et officio Episcoporum. He first draws
the character of a true priest, who, by a genuine spiritual
life becomes an example to his flock. "Is it fitting," he
says, " that the shepherd should, like the animals, follow
the sensual appetites, that he should cleave to the vilest
things, and seek after earthly matters ? And not rather,
standing erect like a man, look up by the Spirit into
heaven, in search of the Supreme God ?" He then repre-
sents the vocation of a Christian priest, as it appeared to
him in that age. " As a good mediator he brings to God
the prayers and pious purposes of the congregation, and
conveys back to them the blessing and the grace of God ;
he implores the Supreme Being for the forgiveness of
sinners, and rebukes sinners for their offences against
God : the unthankful he reminds of God's favours ; the
2b 2

m BERNARD.

blasphemous and despisers, of his inexorable justice ; yet
striving all the while to reconcile their offended God to
them; now exhibiting the weakness of man, and then
dwelling on the greatness of their Heavenly Father's love.
A faithful priest, who regardeth, with dove-like simplicity,
all the wealth that passes through his hands, whether it
be of ' the dew of heaven from above, ' or the vows of men
that are offered unto God, keeping back nought for him-
self, and seeking, not the gifts, but the good of his flock ;
not his own glory, but the glory of God."

After having proposed this pattern of a priest and min-
ister, Bernard goes on to rebuke the opposite errors and
abuses ; the pomp of the clergy, especially in their dress,
the costly foreign furs, worn on occasions of ceremony (c. 15),
and their horse furniture, decorated as it was with the
richest ornaments, and glittering with gold and precious
stones. With the most moving earnestness he reminds
them, that what they thus lavish in vain pomp is taken
from the poor. The naked and the hungry complain, and
cry aloud "You are squandering that which belongs to us,
for we also are God s creatures, and the Blood of Christ
was shed for our redemption as well as yours." " If,"
says Bernard to the archbishop (c.7), "he be tempted to
pride by his condition, his age, his learning, or the dig-
nity of his episcopal see, he will be straightway humbled,
and filled with dread by the consciousness of the respon-
sibility of his calling ; and indeed, it is only because men
are prevented by the glare of the splendour which sur-
rounds them, from discerning their duties and burdens,
that they press forward to the highest ecclesiastical
offices. " Here he manifests his displeasure at the traffic
which is carried on in holy things. " School-boys and
beardless youths, whose birth is their only merit, are
promoted to ecclesiastical dignities — boys who rejoice in
these chiefly as a means of escaping from the rod. And
what is yet more wonderful, the clergy themselves, im-
pelled only by covetousness and ambition, overlook their
duties and burdens in their eager seeking after higher

BERNARD. 295

dignities. Is one a bishop, he then aspires to an arch-
bishopric ; has he attained that, he then dreams of some-
thing still higher, and by tedious journeys and costly
friendships, seeks to purchase partizans at the court of
Rome. Some endeavour to get all privileges at once.
Under the pretext of extending their dioceses beyond
their proper limits, they appropriate to themselves that
which does not belong to them, and alas ! even on the veiy
threslilwld of the Apostles, they find men capable of favour-
ing their evil purposes : not that the Romans take any
great interest in the result of the business, but because they
gladly receive the bribes that it brings with it." By the
side of this greedy ambition, Bernard places the affected
humility, with which men entered on the episcopal office,
and which had become a mere formal etiquette. " Verily
(c. 16), as though ye had been forced into the bishopric, ye
did weep and complain of compulsion, and style your-
selves wretched and unworthy, and altogether unmeet for
so holy an office."

It is well for the admirers of the medieval church, to
the disparagement of the church of England, as it now
exists in its reformed state, to learn the character of
medieval ecclesiastics from statements such as these; We
are by no means among those who would depreciate those
times : virtues then flourished which we are unable to
equal, but vices also prevailed from which we are happily
liberated ; and when we complain of either the worldliness
or the ignorance of our bishops, if the charge can be sub-
stantiated, we must not forget that worldliness and ignor-
ance prevailed also in the middle ages, and as then, so
now, the learning and the disinterestedness of many are
to be dwelt upon with thankfulness, and are to be placed
in contrast with the faults of those who form, it is always
to be hoped, the exception to the rule. We would not
depreciate the past ages by comparison with the present,
or the present by comparison with the past. Each has its
peculiar virtues, and its peculiar faults.

Nor did Bernard spare the papal court. A quarrel

296 BERNARD.

having ensued between Louis the Sixth, king of France,
and the clergy of the Gallican church, the latter laid the
kingdom under an interdict, and the king procured the
pope's authority for the removal of the interdict : for the
popes as often interfered to impede as to support the dis-
cipline of the Church, and it had been long since disco-
vered by the worldly-wise, that at the Romish court it was
not exactly the interests of the Church which had the
ascendancy. Bernard boldly complained to the pope in
his own name and in that of many other persons ; and
although his representations had then effect, he received
a significant hint from the papal chancellor, Haimerich,
that " he should no longer trouble himself so much with
the affairs of the world, since this was unbecoming a
monk." Bernard, in justifying himself, and while express-
ing the greatest possible deference to the see of Rome,
took occasion to utter some home-truths to the papal
court ; concluding his vindication with the remark, that
41 even if we were to hide ourselves and hold our peace,
the murmurs of the Church would still continue, while
the court of Rome continues to give judgment according
to the wishes of those who are present, rather than the
rights of those who are absent." He professed his disin-
clination at the same time to join in these controversies ;
and we are to remember of Bernard, that his great exter-
nal activity was never permitted to interfere with the
inward life of his contemplative nature : he was always
striving, says Neander, to impart to others, both by his
writings and discourses, some portion of the spirit by
which he was himself replenished. As a specimen of his
pious meditations, and in evidence of his profoundly
religious spirit, the following extract is given from his
epistle to Hugh, prior of the Carthusians :

" Love is that eternal, creating, and ruling law, by
which all things were made in their appointed measure,
number, and weight; and there is nothing without
law, for even the law of all things is subject to a law,
although indeed it be to its own law, through which,

BERNARD. 297

though it did not indeed create, yet it rules the world.
But the slaves and hirelings have not received their law
from the Lord, but from themselves, while they love more
than God that which is not God. Thus have they re-
ceived a self-imposed law, differing from the law of God,
and yet subject to it, since they cannot withdraw it from
the unchangeable ordinances of God. That is to say, that
every creature hath, by preferring his own will to the
eternal and universal law, and by thus striving by crooked
ways to imitate the Creator, made a bye-law for himself.
Now it was the effect of God's eternal and righteous law
that those creatures that would not submit to be governed
by God in the enjoyment of holiness, should be overruled
by themselves to their own punishment ; and, as they had
voluntarily cast away the light and pleasant yoke of love,
so must they perforce and involuntarily bear the heavy
burden of their own will. Whereas we are first fleshly,
our desires and our love must be brought out of the flesh,
and when they have taken the right direction, they shall
by the aid of grace, ascending by certain and sure degrees,
at last be perfected in the spirit. At first man loves
himself for his own sake, but when he becomes conscious
that he cannot exist by himself, he begins to seek after
and to love God, as necessary to the support of his exist-
ence : at this second step man loves God indeed, but it
is for his own sake, and not in obedience to the will of
God. But when he hath once begun to raise his thoughts
to God, to pray to Him, to obey Him, though it be from
selfishness, God reveals Himself to him by degrees in
this confidential intercourse. He wins his love, and so
having tasted the good will of the Lord, man passes to the
third step, to love God for God's sake, and on this step
he remaineth ; for I know not whether any man hath in
this life ever reached the fourth step altogether — namely,
to love himself only for God's sake. But this shall come
to pass when the faithful servants shall have entered into
the joy of their Lord ; then, satiated with the riches of the
house of God, and forgetful of themselves, they shall, in a

298 BERNARD.

wonderful manner, be wholly merged in God, and united
with Him in one spirit."

Vain indeed is all zeal for religion, unless there be an
austere regulation of the inward man ; zeal without love
is a mere human passion, and may make men persecu-
tors, but will never make them saints.

Bernard was called forth from his retirement by the
very power which, when he acted counter to its interests,
sought to compel him to retire. It was by the express
command of Matthew of Alba, the papal legate, that he
unwillingly took part in the deliberations of the council
which assembled at Troyes in 1128, where the order of
knights templars received its more settled form. It had
in a manner existed from the year 1118, when nine men
of illustrious descent, united for the purpose of keeping
the road to the Holy Sepulchre open for pilgrims, and
consecrated their lives to the service ; taking the vows of
canons regular before the patriarch of Jerusalem. They
derived their title, Knights Templars, or Knights of the
Temple, from their place of residence, which was the site
of Solomon's Temple. For ten years the association
existed without a fixed rule, or any addition "to their
number. But at the council of Troyes they received their
rule ; and 'through the recommendation and influence of
Bernard, the order was greatly extended. He even wrote
in their favour, and his " Commendation of the New
Order of Knighthood," Liber de Laude Novae Militias
Templi, was written at the request of Hugo-a-Paganis,
the first grandmaster.

But the energies of Bernard's mind were employed
even in the minor controversies between the monks of his
own order and the Cluniacs, whom he accused of various
deviations from the Benedictine rule, and of unnecessary
expense, not only in their domestic arrangements, but in
the decorations of their churches. Peter the Venerable
was abbot of Clugni, and he signalized his Christian
moderation and gentleness in composing the differences
between the rival orders. Bernard had attacked the

BERNARD. 299

Cluniacs with his usual unsparing vigor, and Peter the
Venerable had defended them with judgment, but with
determination. A misunderstanding between the abbots
arose more than once, but they were united by feelings of
friendship and respect, and it is pleasant to read the
following letter written at a later period by Bernard to
Peter :

"What are you about, my good man? you laud a
sinner and beatify a miserable creature. You must add a
prayer, that I may not be led into temptation. For I
shall be led into it, if, feeling complacency in such com-
pliments, I begin not to know myself. How happy now
might I be, if words could make me happy. Happy never-
theless I shall call myself, but in your regard, not in my
own praises. Happy that I am loved by, and that I love,
you. Though indeed this morsel, sweet as it is to me,
must be a little modified. Do you wonder why ? It is
because I do not see what claim I have to such affection,
especially from such a man. You know, however, that to
desire to be more beloved than one deserves is unjust. I
would that I might be enabled to imitate, as well as to
admire, that mark of humility. I would that I might
enjoy your holy and desired presence, I do not say always,
or even often, but at least once a year. I think I should
never return empty. I should not, I say, look in vain at
a pattern of discipline, a mirror of holiness. And (that
which, I confess, I have as yet but too little learned of
Christ) I should not quite in vain have before my eyes
your example of meekness and lowliness of heart. But if
I go on to do to you what I have complained of your
doing to me, though I may speak the truth, yet I shall
act contrary to the word of truth, which commands us not
to do to others what we would not that they should do to
us. Therefore let me now reply to the little request with
which you concluded your letter. He whom you order to
be sent to you is not at present with me, but with the
bishop of Auxerre, and so ill, that he could not, without
great inconvenience, come either to me or to you."

300 BERNARD.

A schism existed in the papacy about this time, car-
dinal Gregorio having been elected pope by one party, by
the name of Innocent the Second ; and cardinal Petrus
Leonis, who took the name of Anacletus the Second,
having been elected by another party. The decision of
the rival claims of the respective popes was remitted by
king Louis to his bishops, and they accordingly assembled
at Etampes for this purpose in 1130. To the council the
abbot of Clairvaux was summoned. The case was left
entirely in his hands, and his decision in favour of Inno-
cent was unanimously deemed conclusive : a fact which is
less surprising, when we are informed that the members
of the council were already predisposed in favour of
Innocent. It was one of those circumstances which ren-
dered Bernard so powerful, that his constitutional cast of
thought and feeling was in harmony with the spirit of the
age, and it was generally felt that when he was consulted
he would come to the conclusion which would commend
itself to the judgment of the vast majority of his contem-
poraries. Bernard was not of a disposition to patronize
Innocent by halves, but as through him France had been
induced to regard him as the true pope, the indefatigable
abbot never rested in his exertion until he had secured
his recognition in other regions of the West. His labours,
especially in Italy, were great, and while kings and pre-
lates were ready to defer to him, his popularity among the
common people was such, that wherever he appeared they
crowded around him, and almost worshipped him as a saint.
At Milan, we are told " that at his nod all gold and silver
ornaments were removed from the churches, and shut up
in chests, as being offensive to the holy abbot ; men and
women clothed themselves either in hair-cloth, or in the
meanest woollen garments," and did whatever he directed.
They earnestly desired to detain him among them as
their metropolitan, and entreated his acceptance of the
archiepiscopal office, but Bernard had long since deter-
mined on refusing any elevated post in the Church,
choosing rather, as a simple monk, to have the guidance

BERNARD. 301

of princes and prelates, than to become either bishop or
pope himself. At the same time we have to regret that
Bernard was one of those who, with the best intentions,
advocated the papal supremacy, and entertained the idea
of there being a universal bishop, to whom all other
bishops ought to submit.

In 1135 Bernard set out from Italy on his return to
France. On his passage over the Alps he was met by
crowds of shepherds and peasants, who came to receive
his blessing. His return through the north of Italy,
Switzerland, and France, resembled a royal progress.
At the gates of Placentia he was received by the bishop
and clergy, who conducted him in solemn procession into
their city. At Florence he met with a similar reception.
The shepherds of the Alps forsook their flocks to come
and ask his benediction. From Besangon he was solemnly
escorted to Langres, and at a short distance from that city
he found his brethren from Clairvaux, who had hastened
to meet him on the news of his approach. " They fell on
his neck, they embraced his knees, they spoke to him by
turns, and full of joyous exultation they accompanied him
to Clairvaux," says the Annalist of Citeaux.

It was soon after Bernard's return, that the rebuilding
of Clairvaux commenced. The monastery was no longer
capable of containing the numbers who nocked to it for
admission ; a hundred novices, principally from the banks
of the Rhine, where Bernard had preached the preceding
year, had been recently received, and the original builcling;
placed in the angle formed by two hills, could not be
enlarged so as to accommodate them. It was necessary
to pull it down and rebuild it entirely. The expense of
so vast an undertaking weighed heavily on the mind of
Bernard. " Remember," he said to his monks, " remem-
ber the labour and cost of our present house, with what
infinite pains did we at last succeed in constructing aque-
ducts to bring water into our offices and workshops ; and
what would now be said of us if we were to destroy our
vol. n. 2 c

302 BERNARD.

own work ? We should be counted fools, and with reason,
since we have no money. Let us not then forget that
word of the Gospel, ' that he who would build a tower,
must first sit down and calculate the cost.' " To this the
brethren replied, " You must either repulse those who are
sent to you by God, or you must build lodgings for them ;
and surely we should be truly miserable, if through fear
of the expense we were to oppose any obstacles to the
development of God's work." The abbot, touched by these
representations, yielded to the general wishes of the com-
munity, offerings flowed in from all parts, and the build-
ings advanced with incredible rapidity. Thibaut, count
of Champagne, granted the charter of this second founda-
tion in the year 1135, and with his daughter Matilda,
countess of Flanders, and her husband, Philip, who were
subsequently buried at Clairvaux, contributed largely to
the endowment, as well as Ermengarde, countess of
Bretagne. It is described in the deed of enrollment,
as " in Banno Morasma quae vocatur Bellum Pratum."
In the hill situate to the west of this valley, was
a spring of clear water, which after making its way
to the meadows below, lost itself under ground, and at
a little distance re-appeared ; and it was at this point
that the new monastery was erected. The monks had
timber at hand for their buildings, for the forest of
Clairvaux is stated to have been 7000 toises in length,
and 3000 in breadth, that is, about eight miles long and
three broad.

Of Bernard, in his retirement and as abbot of Clairvaux,
we have the following interesting account :

In spite of the delicacy of his health, Bernard was
in the habit of preaching every day to his monks. His
eloquence, according to the statement of his contempo-
raries, was overpowering. His voice, though wreak, was
wonderfully flexible and melodious, and its effect was
enhanced by a countenance which expressed every emotion
of his sensitive heart. It is said that we owe the discourses

BERNARD. 808

which have come down to us, to the care of the monks,
who wrote them as he delivered them.

It was during this interval of retirement in his " beloved
Jerusalem," as Bernard was accustomed to call Clairvaux:
that he composed his sermons on the Canticles ; in which,
says Milner, " we have laid before us the inward soul of
a saint of the 12th century, confessing and describing the
vicissitudes of spiritual consolation and declension :
which, with more or less variety, are known to real Chris-
tians in all ages of the Church." They were preached
to his brethren at the daily service, and it appears from
one of his letters that he was led to make choice of
this divine book as the text of his discourses, from his
own intimate consciousness of the force of divine Jove
as a motive of action. " For myself," says Bernard, " I
serve God freely, because I serve him from love, and
it is to the practice of this love that I exhort you, my
beloved and dear children. Serve God with love, with
that perfect love which casteth out fear, which feels not
the burden of the day, which counts not the cost of the
labour, which works not for wages, and which is yet the
most powerful motive of action." " We must," he saye
elsewhere, " regard rather the affections than the expres-
sions in the Song of Songs. Love is the speaker through-
out, and if any one wish to understand it, it must be by
love. He who loveth not, will in vain approach either to
hear or to read, for this discourse of fire can never be
apprehended by a heart of ice." " This sweet colloquy
requireth chaste ears, and in the loving ones whom it
pourtrayeth do not represent to yourselves a man and
woman, but the Word and the soul, Jesus Christ and the
Church, which is the same thing, except that the Church,
instead of one soul, denotes the unity of many." During
the rebuilding of the abbey, Bernard lived in a green ar-
bour, which he had erected in the most retired part of the
valley, and there it was his wont to meditate on the sub-
jects of his discourses, which were often preached extem-
pore, after being prepared hy meditation and prayer. He

304 BERNARD.

was interrupted by a second call to Italy, but resumed the
subject on his return ; and it was soon after this, that he
had to deplore the loss of his favourite brother Gerard,
the companion of all his journey ings, who died trium-
phantly in his arms, chanting a psalm of thanksgiving, on
the 13th of April, 1139. Like David, Bernard had given
way to his grief while Gerard was languishing and dying,
but when all was over, he stifled every sign of feeling, and
even presided at the funeral rites with an air of the most
profound calmness and insensibility, while all around him
were dissolved in tears ; a circumstance the more remarked
by his brethren, because he had ever before wept over
every monk whom he had lost, with the tenderness
of a mother. At the accustomed hour, Bernard, who
never suffered any circumstances to interrupt the per-
formance of his religious duties, mounted the pulpit as
usual, and continued the exposition of the Canticles ; but
on a sudden he stopped, overcome by his feelings, and
almost suffocated by the grief he had repressed; then
after a pause he continued, and the tribute he paid to his
brother in this unpremeditated funeral oration affords
a lively portrait of his own affectionate character.

Without referring to some of those slighter traits which
might be alluded to as characterizing Bernard's activity
at this epoch of his life, for he was not permitted to
remain long in retirement, we must allude to his contro-
versy with the notorious Abelard, and his opposition to
the system of treating theological subjects which was at
this period introduced. A taste for philosophical studies
had now spread itself among theologians, and there grew
up a scholastic, as distinguished from positive or tradition-
ary theology, which for four centuries continued to engage
the attention of eminent men in the Church. From the
beginning of the twelfth century, Paris became the chief
seat of the new science, and Abelard its favourite doctor.
In the first of the periods into which the scholastic
theology maybe divided, its disciples contented themselves
with a dialectic treatment of the received system of the

BERNARD.

Church, but Abelard became bolder, and the further he
pushed his irreverent speculations, the greater was the
enthusiasm of his scholars. He was led by his profane
and irreverent speculations into many heresies, asserting
that the mysteries of faith are subject to reason, and
holding, with reference to the Trinity, views nearly
approaching to modern Socinianism. On the person of
Christ he agreed with the Xestorians ; and with the
Pelagians, in the opinion that His death was not the price
of our redemption, but that He was only an example of
patience, perseverance, charity, and virtue. His Intro-
ductio ad Theologiam was condemned, by the synod of
Soissons, in 1121. But his condemnation only served
to increase his fame among his self-willed disciples, who
followed him in great numbers to his retirement near
Xogent. Abelard, thus supported, after a little time
resumed the teaching of his heterodoxies, and his philoso-
phy was diffused beyond the Alps and the seas, by his
writings and by his enthusiastic scholars.

It was on Bernard's return to Clairvaux, after his last
visit to Rome, that his attention was called to this dis-
tinctive philosophy by his friend the abbot of St Thierry,
who wrote to urge him to exert himself in the cause of
the " faith, of our common hope, now grievously and dan-
gerously corrupted." With his letter he sent Abelard's
" Theology," to which he had appended his own remarks.
It would appear from this letter that Bernard had been
at first favourably inclined towards Abelard, for the abbot
William thus concludes his letter : " If I can convince
you that I am justly moved, I trust that you also will be
moved, and in an important cause like this, will not fear
to part with him, though he be afoot, a hand, or an eye.
I myself have loved him, and wish to do so still, God is
my witness ; but in this cause, I see neither relation nor
friend."

The self-distrusting humility of Bernard is fully
evinced in his answer. " I think your zeal both just and
a c2

306 BERNARD.

necessary, and that it was not idle, the book you have sent
me demonstrates .... But as I have not been accus-
tomed to trust to my own judgment, especially on things
of so great importance, I believe the best way would be
for you and me to meet and talk over the subject. Yet
even this, I think, cannot be done till after Easter, lest
the devotions of the holy season be disturbed. I must
beseech you to have patience with me, and to pardon my
silence on the subject, since I was hitherto ignorant of
most, if not all the particulars. As to that which you
exhort me to, God is able to inspire me with His good
Spirit through your prayers."

Having thoroughly investigated the subject, Bernard,
now fully impressed with its awful magnitude, undertook
a journey to visit and privately confer with Abelard. In
these conferences he kindly admonished him of his errors,
and intreated him to correct them. This attempt proving
fruitless, he took two or three persons with him, according
to the precept of the Gospel, and in their presence expos-
tulated with the innovator. Finding all these endeavours
utterly ineffectual, and having proved himself sufficiently
dear from personal malice, or blind precipitation, he
began, as far as he could, to warn the disciples of Abelard
against the errors of their master, and to guard the
Christian world against the growing heresy.

Abelard, whose aim was not truth, but victory, and the
establishment of his own fame, rejoiced in an opportunity
of entering, as he hoped, into a controversy with one so
eminent as St Bernard. A numerous synod being sum-
moned to assemble at Sens in the year 1140, he declared
himself ready to dispute with Bernard, and to refute his
charges. He was ready, with the chivalrous spirit of
a literary knight errant, to maintain his cause. But
Bernard knew that the doctrines of the faith are too
sacred to be converted into subjects for dialectic disputa-
tion : lie knew that the proper course was to have the
opinions of Abelard compared with the indisputable doc-

BERNARD. 307

trines of the Church. They were orthodox or not ; if
orthodox, let him be acquitted ; if not, let him be con-
demned. In the first instance, therefore, Bernard de-
clined the invitation which had been sent him by the
archbishop of Sens. He says, " I declined the challenge,
partly because I was but a youth, and he a man of-war
from his youth ; partly, because I hold it unmeet to
subject matters of faith, which are grounded on sure
and steadfast truth, to the subtleties of human argumen-
tation. I replied that his writings are sufficient to accuse
him, and that it is not my business, but that of the
bishops, whose vocation it is to decide questions of faith.
Notwithstanding, yea, the rather for this answer, he lifted
up his voice, so as to attract many, and assembled his
adherents. I will not relate the things that he wrote of
me to his scholars, but he affirmed everywhere that he
would meet and dispute with me, on the appointed day,
at Sens. The news reached all men, and could not be
hidden from me. At first I disregarded it as idle gossip,
undeserving of credit, but finally I yielded, though with
great reluctance, and with many tears, to the counsel of
my friends ; for, seeing that all men. were preparing them-
selves for the conference as for an encounter of combat-
ants, they feared lest my absence should be a stumbling-
block to the people, and an occasion of triumph to the
adversary, who would wax stronger if none could be found
to oppose him. So I came to the appointed place at the
time appointed, but unprepared, and mindful of those
words of Scripture, ' Do not premeditate how you shall
answer, for it shall be given you in that same hour what
ye shall say ;' and that other, ' The Lord is my helper ;
whom, then, shall I fear ?' "

Bernard proceeded on the principle he had laid down
for himself. The king himself was present at the council,
surrounded by the most eminent prelates of the Gallican
Church, and by all who were distinguished for learning or
pretensions to learning. It was a grand opportunity for
intellectual display, but Bernard was above the tempta-

308 BERNARD.

tion. He declined to argue ; he merely selected certain
passages from the writings of Abelard, and then produced
from the fathers passages by which they were refuted,
Abelard perceived that instead of being a disputant secure
of a faction to applaud him, he was placed as a prisoner
upon his trial : he was therefore silent, and the propo-
sitions from his writings were, as a matter of course,
condemned as heretical. He appealed to the pope : for
all parties, heterodox and orthodox, conspired at this time
in elevating the papal authority. The pope condemned
all the corrupt doctrines of Abelard, together with their
author, who, as a heretic, was enjoined perpetual silence.
For an account of Abelard's retirement to the abbey of
Clugni, his reconciliation with Bernard, his retractation,
penitence, and death, the reader is referred to the life of
Abelard, already given.

About the year 1140, Bernard was involved in an
important controversy concerning what was called the
immaculate conception of the Virgin Mary. Several
Churches in France began about that time to celebrate the
festival consecrated to this pretended conception. It is
reported by some authors that it had been introduced into
our own church of England before this period, in con-
sequence of the exhortations of archbishop Anselm. The
Church of Lyons was the first which adopted this new
festival in France, which no sooner came to the knowledge
of St Bernard, than he severely censured the canons of
Lyons on account of this innovation, and opposed the
immaculate conception of the Virgin with the greatest
vigour, as it supposed her to be honoured with a privilege
which belonged to Christ alone. Upon this a warm
contest arose ; some siding with the canons of Lyons, and
adopting the new festival, while others adhered to the
more orthodox sentiments of St Bernard. The contro-
versy, notwithstanding the zeal of the contending parties,
was carried on during this century with a certain degree
of decency and moderation. But in after times, as
Moslieim remarks, when the Dominicans were established

BERNARD. 309

in the academy of Paris, the contest was renewed with the
greatest vehemence, and the same subject was debated on
both sides with the utmost animosity and contention of
mind. The Dominicans declared for St Bernard, while
the academy patronized the canons of Lyons, and adopted
the new festival.

Bernard was soon after taken by surprise when he
heard that his protege and namesake whom, at the re-
quest of Innocent, he had sent to preside over the Cister-
cian monastery at Rome, had been elected pope under the
name of Eugenius the Third. Bernard had been his
spiritual father, and indeed in early life Eugenius had
resigned an honourable and lucrative office in the church
of Pisa, to place himself at Clairvaux under Bernard. The
letter which Bernard addressed the new pope is character-
istic : " I dare no longer," writes Bernard to the new pope,
" call you my son, for the son is become the father, the
father the son; yet I envy you not; for that which is
lacking to me, I trust to obtain in you, for you are my
work. I may call you my son in the spirit, and ' a
wise son is the joy of his father,' (Prov. x. 1.) But
from henceforth you shall no more be called my son, for a
new name have you received, which the Lord Himself
hath given you. This change is from the Most High,
and many shall rejoice thereat. As Simon was turned
into Cephas, and Saul to Paul, so I trust that for you it
shall also be a blessed transformation that has made of
my son Bernard, my father Eugenius. And now that this
change has been made in you, the Lamb's Bride com-
mitted to your care must likewise be changed, and made
better. If you be indeed the Bridegroom's friend, appro-
priate not to yourself His Church, or appropriate it only
so as to be willing to lay down your life for it, in case of
necessity. If you be sent by Christ, you will consider
that you are ' come not to be ministered unto, but to
minister.' Then shall the Church, freed from her bond-
age, and transfigured, shine forth as the beloved of Him
Who is the only object of her desire. But if you, who

310 BERNARD.

have formerly learned to renounce not only your own, but
yourself, should now (which may God forbid !) be found
seeking your own in that which belongeth to Christ, from
whom shall the Church look for that freedom to which
she is entitled ? Confiding, then, more in you than in
any of your predecessors for a long season, the universal
Church rejoiceth, and especially that Church which has
borne you in her bosom, and at whose breast you have
imbibed the new life. And shall I not share the common
joy? Yea, truly, I confess it, J also rejoiced; but in the
moment of rejoicing, fear and trembling seized me, for
though I have laid aside the name of father, yet have I
not laid aside the tender love and anxious solicitude of a
father. You have taken a higher place, but not so safe an
one. ' The place whereon thou standest is holy ground ;'
the place of the first of the apostles ; the place of him
whom God made lord of His house, and ruler of His
kingdom, who is buried in this place to appear as a
witness against you, if in anything you depart from the
way of the Lord. To one who with a clear conscience
could say, ' Silver and gold have I none,' was the Church
committed in her infancy, that taught by his words, and
edified by his example, she might leam to despise all
earthly things."

After exhorting the pope to reprove certain worldly-
minded men on some particular occasion, he continues :
" 0 ! that I might see the Church, before I die, as it was
in the days of the apostles, who made it their business to
win not silver and gold, but souls. How earnestly do I
desire to hear from you, who occupy the apostle's place,
the apostle's sentence, — ' Thy money perish with thee!'
(The answer of Peter to Simon Magus, Acts viii. 26.)
0 ! word of thunder, at which all the enemies of Zion
should arise and flee away ! And this doth your Mother
the Church require of you : for this do her children, small
and great, continually sigh, — namely, that you should
root out every plant which your Heavenly Father hath
not planted ; for you are set over nations and kingdoms to

BERNARD. 211

root out and to destro}', and to build up and to plant.
Yet, in all your undertakings, remember that you are but
a man ; and let the fear of Him who taketh away the
breath of princes, be ever before your eyes. How many
popes have been removed by death, even in your own
time ! Let these, your predecessors, be silent monitors of
the shortness and uncertainty of your own life, and, amid
the flatteries of surrounding royalty, let your thoughts be
ever on your latter end."

Eugenius was involved in great difficulties owing to the
insubordination of the Roman people, excited, as their
passions had been, by the eloquence of Arnold of Brescia,
and Bernard exerted his influence with the emperor to
obtain for him assistance, when the attention of both, and
indeed of the civilized world, was called to an undertaking
of yet greater importance, — the second Crusade.

It was in the year 1145 that information was received
in Europe of the perilous condition of the newly estab-
lished kingdom in the East. Edessa was taken by the
Saracens ; Antioch and Jerusalem were threatened. The
news excited universal sorrow. Louis the Seventh, king
of France, in a penitential spirit, was the first who pre-
pared to arm in defence of the Holy Sepulchre. The
French king's determination was approved by the pope,
Eugenius III ; and Bernard was commissioned to travel
through France and Germany for the purpose of raising
an army of crusaders. The success of Bernard was mar-
vellous. The unwilling emperor, Conrad III, yielded at
length to his impassioned eloquence. In his manage-
ment of Conrad, the tact and good taste of Bernard were
conspicuous. It was at Frankfort-on-Maine that he had
his first private audience. When the emperor then gave
him to understand how little interest he took in the
matter, Bernard pressed the subject no farther, but
awaited another opportunity. After having succeeded in
making peace between several of the princes of the
empire, he preached the crusade publicly, exhorting the
emperor and princes to participate in it, at the diet held

312 BERNARD.

at Christinas in the city of Spires. Three days after this,
he again addressed the emperor in private, and exhorted
him, in a friendly and affectionate manner, not to lose the
opportunity of so short, so easy, and so honourable a mode
of penance. Conrad, already more favourably disposed to
the undertaking, replied that he would advise with his
councillors, and give him an answer on the following day.
The next day Bernard officiated at the holy communion,
to which he unexpectedly added a sermon in reference to
the crusade. Towards the conclusion of his discourse, he
turned to the emperor, and addressed him frankly, as
though he had been a private man. He described the
day of judgment, when the men who had received such
innumerable benefits from God, and yet had refused to
minister to Him to the utmost of their power, would be
left without reply or excuse. He then spoke of the
blessings which God had in such overflowing measure
poured upon the head of Conrad; the highest worldly
dominion, treasures of wealth, gifts of mind and body, till
the emperor, moved even to tears, exclaimed, " I acknow-
ledge the gifts of the divine mercy, and I will no longer
remain ungrateful for them. I am ready for the service
to which He Himself hath exhorted me." x\t these words
a universal shout of joy burst from the assembly ; the
emperor immediately received the cross, and several of
the nobles followed his example. Bernard then took
from the altar the consecrated banner, and delivering it
to the emperor, by whom it was to be carried in person at
the head of the crusaders, he proceeded with him from
the church to his lodgings.

It appears from contemporary records, that one great
difficulty which Bernard had to encounter in preaching the
crusade, originated in the religious societies for the build-
ing of churches, then the great object of popular devotion.
These church building societies were regularly organized,
and persons of both sexes and of all ranks aspired to the
honour of labouring in them. No one could be admitted
till he had reconciled himself to God, by a devout and

BERNARD. 313

humble confession of his sins, a vow of obedience to the
superior of the association, and an engagement to perform
all the offices of charity for the sick. The congregation
then marched over hill and dale, under the conduct of a
priest, and with banner displayed, to the field of their joint
labours. Some curious details on this subject may be
seen in a letter given by Mabillon, Arm. Ord. S. Bernd.
t. vi. p. 392. It was written in the year 1145, by Haimo,
abbot of St Pierre, in Normandy, who saw a magnificent
cathedral rising on the site of his humble parish church.

"Who has ever heard of such a thing?" exclaims the
astonished abbot, " who has ever seen princes, mighty
lords, men-at-arms, and delicate women, bend their necks
to the yoke to which they suffer themselves to be attached
like beasts of draught, so as to move heavy burdens?
Sometimes thousands of them are to be seen fastened to
one machine, of great weight, loaded with wheat, wine, and
oil ; with lime, stone, and all the materials necessary for
the workmen, which they drag from surprising distances.
Nothing stops their progress ; neither hills, valleys, nor
rivers, which they cross as did formerly the people of
God. And what is still more wonderful, this innu-
merable company pursues its march without noise or
confusion. Their voices are never heard except at a
given signal, when they are raised to implore pardon for
their sins, or to chant the praises of God."

It will be evident that these associations, so interest-
ing to the imagination, presented a formidable obstacle
to the successful preaching of the crusade. It must
indeed have been difficult to persuade men who had
consecrated their lives to the advancement of the cause
of religion in their native land, and who were cheered
by the sight of their daily progress, to desert the sacred
work in which they were engaged, for an object of remote
interest and dubious attainment. Yet even this obstacle
was surmounted by the eloquence of Bernard.

In the course of the year a numerous host of crusaders

VOL. II. 2 D

314 BERNARD.

took their departure for the East. The observations of
Neander on this subject are liberal and just, which in one
who professes liberality, is always agreeable, though not
very common. " So powerful," he says, " in this age was
the influence of sensations of devotional remembrance,
that men of all ranks left their goods and their homes,
and were ready to lay down their lives to deliver from the
hands of the infidel those localities which they justly
regarded as the most sacred in the world, from their
having been hallowed by events the most sublime and
touching, and of universal interest; and to open them
again for the access of piety and devotion. It was,
indeed, a mistake to seek by violence and blood, the con-
quest of that place from which peace was to be shed
abroad upon the whole human race ; and these rude
warriors, actuated by devotional sensations which they
but imperfectly understood, and which were inadequately
impressed on their inner being, were often carried away
by the impulses of passion and sensuality : still, in the
enthusiasm which animated the nations for an object
unintelligible to the senses, in the extraordinary efforts
for an extraordinary end, we recognize the traces of man's
illustrious origin. Lowest in the scale [of excellence],
and false in the greatest degree to the primitive nobility
of man, stands he, who, in the coldness of intellect, looks
down upon those times in a spirit of affected compassion,
proceeding not from the overpowering influence of genuine
reality on the mind, but from the circumstance of his
assuming that only to be real, which is, in truth, the very
lowest degree of seeming, and thus regarding as a delusion
what is here the beautiful, the labouring and the venturing
for an object which exists, and is of value, for the heart
alone."

The success of his preaching on this occasion had
evidently an injurious effect upon Bernard's character :
he persuaded others as well as himself that he was pos-
sessed of supernatural powers, and his great reputation

BERNARD. 015

betrayed him into the weakness of displaying himself as
a prophet. He was justly rebuked by the entire failure
of the expedition ; a melancholy result, which spread
dismay among the nations of the West. The disappointed
nobles reproached him as a false and incautious prophet ;
and he attributed the failure to the vices and mismanage-
ment of the princes and knights, who in their lives proved
themselves to be unworthy of being used as instruments
of God s service.

But before the disappointment with respect to the
crusade came upon Bernard, we find him actively engaged
in suppressing the heresy of the Petrobrusians, of whom
it is necessary to give a short account.

In the beginning of the 12th century Pierre de Bruys
made his appearance in the south of France. This heretic
was a man of decided character, determined to carry out
his principles to their legitimate conclusions. Like some
modern heretics, he denied that regeneration is the grace
conferred by the Holy Ghost through the Sacrament of
Baptism ; but unlike them, having embraced an heretical
opinion, he discarded the traditional practice of the
Church, and rejected infant baptism, If infants are born
in original sin they require regeneration ; and if baptism
be the instrument of regeneration, they ought to be
baptized. But if baptism is not the instrument of
regeneration, it is mere superstition to administer it to
infants ; unless there be, which there is not, a plain com-
mand in Scripture to baptize them. Pierre de Bruys,
like a heretic, rejected the doctrine of baptismal rege-
neration ; like an honest man he shrunk not from the
consequence of his heresy, and denounced infant bap-
tism. Nor were his errors confined to this question.
Asserting that God was not more present in one place
than another, he drew the conclusion that churches in
general were unnecessary, and that all churches must
therefore be pulled down ; maintaining that God " taketh
pleasure in the pious emotions of the heart alone, he drew
the conclusion that He is neither to be invoked by loud

316 BERNARD.

sounding voices, or conciliated by musical melodies, and
that therefore " God is only mocked by church chanting."
In his contempt for external religion he totally, but con-
sistently, rejected the sacrament of the blessed Eucharist ;
and, denying the doctrine of a purgatory, he denied also
the existence of a middle state. The result of his preach-
ing was that his followers pulled down not only altars but
churches also ; and assembling on Good Friday brought
together all the crosses they could find, and making a
bonfire, cooked flesh, and invited all to eat. They scourged
all the priests upon whom they could lay hands, and com-
pelled the monks, in spite of their yows, to marry. Con-
sidering how identified in this age were the laws of each
country with the canons of the Church, and that this move-
ment was seditious as well as schismatical, it is astonish-
ing to find that Pierre de Bruys continued to preach these
doctrines with impunity for twenty years. He was at
length seized by an infuriated mob and conducted to the
scaffold, in the town of St Giles, in Languedoc. But his
principles had taken root, and his party called Petrobru-
sians continued their violence under a leader more fana-
tical than himself, Henri by name. This man, who was
both a demagogue and a fanatic, was mildly dealt with :
nothing could have been more tolerant or judicious than
the treatment he received from Hildebert, bishop of Mens,
nothing more ungrateful and wicked than the conduct of
Henri. Against the pious bishop he excited the populace,
but Hildebert took no other measure against him than
that of requiring him to leave his diocese. In 1134 the
bishop of Aries brought him before a council at Pisa,
where Henri retracted his errors, and was committed to
the mild custody of St Bernard, at Clairvaux, from which
he made his escape and resumed his schismatical pro-
ceedings about Toulouse and Albi. His influence here,
and the mischief he did, is described by St Bernard, and
the whole district must have been in a state of civil
as well as ecclesiastical disturbance. At length pope
Eugenius perceived the necessity of stronger measures,

BERNARD. 317

and despatched a cardinal, accompanied by other bishops,
to suppress the sect. The cardinal desiring to do so by
moral influence rather than by force of arms, persuaded
St Bernard to accompany him, knowing his power over
the minds of men. He had concluded rightly. When
the cardinal entered Albi he was met by every species of
tumultuous insult, but when two days afterwards St
Bernard made his appearance, his personal dignity, the
meanness of his apparel, and his haggard countenance,
made a very different impression : none presumed to
treat him with derision, and he was received with univer-
sal reverence and rejoicing.

At Toulouse such was the effect of the simple eloquence
of Bernard that, when at the conclusion of a discourse
which had been listened to with sobs and tears, he invited
the people to consider their ways and return to the unity
of the Church ; and in order to distinguish the penitents,
desired that "those who received the word of salvation
should hold up their right hands, in token of their adhe-
rence to the catholic Church," the whole congregation did
so with eager alacrity.

Henri was captured shortly after and brought before the
pope at the council of Rheims, but at the intercession of
the archbishop of Rheims, his sentence was mitigated to
imprisonment in a convent, where he soon after died.

The concludiDg years of St Bernard's life were devoted
to the completion of his most important work, "The Book
of Consideration," intended to remind his much loved
pupil, Eugenius, of the duties devolving upon him in his
high station. But Eugenius died before the work was
completed. And St Bernard, after again becoming a bene-
factor to a large portion of his fellow-men, by being the
mediator between the people of Mentz and some neigh-
bouring princes, whom he reconciled with his usual skill,
returned to Clairvaux, to prepare for his own departure.
A short time before his death, when his pains had ceased
to be alleviated by sleep, he dictated these words to a
2d 2

318 BERNARD.

friend: "Pray to the Saviour, who willeth not the death
of a sinner, that He delay not my departure, and yet that
He will be pleased to guard it. Support him who hath no
merits of his own by your prayers, that the adversary of
our salvation may not find any place open to his attacks."

Looking round upon his weeping brethren who no longer
attempted to restrain the demonstration of their grief, the
compassionate and tender hearted Bernard exclaimed :
" I am in a strait betwixt two pains, a desire to depart
and be with Christ which is far better ; nevertheless, the
love of my children urgeth me to remain here below."
These were the last words of Bernard of Clairvaux. His
life had been one of the strictest mortification, and it was
brought to a close in the year 1153, at the age of sixty-
three.

The character of this illustrious man will have been
seen from the facts narrated above. To powerful genius,
and perfect confidence in himself, by which he was led to
regard himself as an exception to ordinary rules, he united
a singleness of purpose and disinterestedness which made
him all powerful. He armed the warriors of the crusade,
but when they offered to make him their leader, he declined
the honour, for he felt that under such a leader a host of
warriors was not likely to prevail. He had at his option
the highest honours in the Church, which were sometimes
pressed upon him, but he declined them all, from the
feeling that as a poor monk he could better promote the
cause of true religion. He united to firmness of principle,
and severity against vice, an enthusiastic appreciation of
virtue, and the tenderness of a little child towards his
friends. He acted upon principle, but his feelings were
impulsive.

In one of his letters he thus unconsciously draws his
own portrait. " That is a high degree of virtue, and as
rare as it is high, that does great things without perceiving
its own greatness ; that is alone unconscious of the lustre
of that holiness which dazzles all other eyes ; and that,

BERNARD. 319

while admired by the whole world, looks upon itself as
vile, and only deserving of contempt. This is the greatest
of all virtues," — and it was his : for he who was highest
in the judgment of the Christian world (so that " all affairs
seemed to depend on his precepts and example, who was
consulted as an oracle by high and low, and acknowledged
as an arbiter both of truces and of peace ; to whose prayers
all orders of men desired to be recommended, since he
was so generally admired and beloved, that he had the
good wishes of the whole world, having gained more
favour in his humility than Solomon in all his glory ;")
ever remained the lowest in his own, " uniting the force
of a master with the docility of a child."

The editions of his works are numerous. The best
edition is that of Mabillon, printed at Paris in 1690, in
two volumes, folio. In Dupin may be found a particular
account of his letters, 440 in number, and of his other
works. His meditations have been translated by Dean
Stanhope. His sermons have been the delight of the
faithful in all ages. " They are," says Sixtus of Sienna,
" at once so sweet and so ardent that it is as though his
mouth were a fountain of honey, and his heart a whole
furnace of love." The doctrines of St Bernard differ on
some material points from that of the modern church of
Rome : he did not hold those refinements and perversions
of the doctrine of justification which the school divinity
afterwards introduced, and the reformers denounced : he
rejected the notion of supererogatory works : he did not
hold the modern purgatorial doctrines of the church of
Rome ; neither did he admit the immaculate conception
of the Blessed Virgin. He maintained also the orthodox
doctrine of the Real Presence, as distinguished from the
Romish doctrine of transubstantiation. In his discourse
on the Lord's Supper, he joins together the outward form
of the Sacrament, and the spiritual efficacy of it, as the
shell and the kernel, the sacred sign, and the thing sig-
nified; the one he takes out of the words of the InstitutioD,
and the other, out of Christ's sermon in the sixth of

3-20 BERNARD.

St John. And in the same place explaining, that Sacra-
ments are not things absolute in themselves without any
relation, but mysteries, wherein by the gift of a visible
sign, an invisible and divine grace with the Body and
Blood of Christ is given, he saith, " that the visible sign
is as a ring, which is given not for itself or absolutely, but
to invest and give possession of an estate made over to

one." Now, as no man can fancy that the ring is

substantially changed into the inheritance, whether lands
or houses, none also can say with truth, or without
absurdity, that the bread and wine are substantially
changed into the Body and Blood of Christ. But in his
sermon on the Purification, he speaks yet more plainly :
" The body of Christ in the Sacrament is the food of the
soul, not of the belly, therefore we eat Him not corpo-
rally: but in the manner that Christ is meat, in the
same manner we understand that He is eaten." Also in
his sermon on St Martin, "To this day," saith he, "the
same flesh is given to us, but spiritually, therefore not
corporally." For the truth of things spiritually present
is certain also.

Bishop Cosin remarks that Bellarmine confesseth with
St Bernard, that " Christ in the Sacrament is not given
to us carnally, but spiritually ; and would to God he had
rested here, and not outgone the holy Scriptures, and the
doctrine of the fathers. For endeavouring, with pope
Innocent III. and the council of Trent, to determine the
manner of the presence and manducation of Christ's
Body, with more nicety than was fitting, he thereby fool-
ishly overthrew all that he had wisely said before, denied
what he had affirmed, and opposed his own opinion. His
fear was lest his adversaries should apply that word spiri-
tually, not so much to express the manner of presence,
as to exclude the very substance of the Body and Blood of
Christ; "therefore," saith he, "upon that account it is
not safe to use too much that of St Bernard, ' the Body of
Christ is not corporally in the Sacrament,' without adding
presently the above-mentioned explanation." How much

BERNARD. 321

do we comply with human pride, and curiosity, which
would seem to understand all things ! Where is the
danger ? And what does he fear, as long as all they that
believe the Gospel, own the true nature, and the real and
substantial presence of the Body of Christ in the Sacra-
ment, using that explication of St Bernard, concerning
the manner, which he himself, for the too great evidence
of truth, durst not but admit ? and why doth he own that
the manner is spiritual, not carnal, and then require a
carnal presence, as to the manner itself? As for us, we
all openly profess with St Bernard, that the presence of
the Body of Christ in the Sacrament, is spiritual, and
therefore true and real ; and with the same Bernard, and
all the ancients, we deny that the Body of Christ is
carnally either present or given. The thing we willingly
admit, but humbly and religiously forbear to enquire into
the manner.

" We believe a presence and union of Christ with our
soul and body, which we know not how to call better than
sacramental, that is, effected by eating ; that while we eat
and drink the consecrated bread and wine, we eat and
drink therewithal the Body and Blood of Christ, not in a
corporal manner, but some other way, incomprehensible,
known only to God, which we call spiritual ; for if with
St Bernard and the fathers a man goes no further, we
do not find fault with a general explication of the manner,
but with the presumption and self-conceitedness of those
who boldly and curiously inquire what is a spiritual pre-
sence, as presuming that they can understand the manner
of acting of God's Holy Spirit. We contrariwise confess
with the fathers, that this manner of presence is unac-
countable, and past finding out, not to be searched and
pried into by reason, but believed by faith. And if it
seems impossible that the flesh of Christ should descend,
and come to be our food, through so great a distance ; we
must remember how much the power of the Holy Spirit
exceeds our sense and our apprehensions, and how absurd
it would be to undertake to measure His immensity by

322 BERNARD.

our weakness and narrow capacity ; and so make our faith
to conceive and believe what our reason cannot compre-
hend.

" Yet our faith doth not cause or make that presence,
but apprehends it as most truly and really effected by the
word of Christ : and the faith whereby we are said to eat
the flesh of Christ, is not that only whereby we believe
that He died for our sins, (for this faith is required and
supposed to precede the Sacramental Manducation,) but
more properly, that whereby we believe those words of
Christ, This is My Body; which was St Austin's meaning
when he said, " Why dost thou prepare thy stomach and
thy teeth ? Believe and thou hast eaten." For in this
mystical eating by the wonderful power of the Holy Ghost,
we do invisibly receive the substance of Christ's Body
and Blood, as much as if we should eat and drink both
visibly.

" The result of all this is, that the Body and Blood of
Christ are sacramentally united to the bread and wine, so
that Christ is truly given to the faithful ; and yet is not
to be here considered with sense or worldly reason, but by
faith, resting on the words of the Gospel. Now it is said,
that the Body and Blood of Christ are joined to the bread
and wine, because, that in the celebration of the Holy
Eucharist, the flesh is given together with the bread, and
the blood together with the wine. All that remains is,
that we should with faith and humility admire this high
and sacred mystery, which our tongue cannot sufficiently
explain, nor our heart conceive."

The materials for this life have been chiefly drawn
from Neander's Life and Times of St Bernard. The ra-
tionalism and liberalism of Neander have been corrected
in the few but very judicious notes of the accomplished
translator, Matilda Wrench. The most ancient biography
of St Bernard is in five books, and is to be found in the
second volume of Mabillon. Use has also been made
of Maitland's Dark Ages. Cosin on Transubstantiation.
Mosheim,

BERNARD. 323

Bernard, of Menthon, was born at Annecy, in Savoy,
in 923. As archdeacon of Piedmont he was employed
successfully in the conversion of the pagan inhabitants of
the neighbouring mountains, and replaced their temple of
Jupiter on Mont-joux by a conventual establishment, of
which the inmates are employed in assisting the traveller
when in danger, and in rendering hospitality to pilgrims
crossing the Alps on their way to Rome. He placed
another such establishment near the Colonnade of Jupi-
ter, so called from a series of upright stones placed on
the snow to point out a safe track. These two religious
establishments still remain among the most inhospitable
passages of the Alps, and are known as the Great and
Little St Bernard. The monastery on Great St Bernard
is probably the highest habitation in Europe; and in
both the monasteries the self-devoted monks train their
dogs to trace out the weary and perishing traveller, to
whom they extend all the hospitable attention his case
may require. Bernard, having effected this great work,
and having established a claim upon the gratitude of pos-
terity, resumed his missionary labours until his death,
which occurred at No vara, in the Milanese, on the 28th of
May, 1008. — Moreri. Biog. Univ.

Bernard, Andrew, was bom at Toulouse, and became
an Augustine monk. He is chiefly distinguished for
having been poet laureat to Henry VII and Heniy VIII,
kings of England, with a salary of ten marks, until he
could obtain some equivalent appointment. He is also
supposed to have been the royal historiographer and pre-
ceptor in grammar to prince Arthur. He wrote several
poems interesting chiefly to the antiquarian, which are to
be found in manuscript in some of the public libraries. —
Wartons Hist, of Poetry.

Bernard, Claude, called Father Bernard, or the poor
priest, was born at Dijon, in 1588. After a youth of dis-
sipation he grew disgusted with the world, and devoted

324 BERNARD.

himself wholly to relieving and comforting the poor. He
assisted them by his charities and exhortations to the end
of his days, with incredible fervour, stooping and humbling
himself to do the meanest offices for them. Father Ber-
nard having persisted in refusing all the benefices offered
him by the court, cardinal Richelieu told him one day,
that he absolutely insisted on his asking him for some-
thing, and left him alone to consider of it. When the
cardinal returned half an hour after, Bernard said,
" Monseigneur, after much study, I have at last found
out a favour to ask of you : when I attend any sufferers
to the gibbet to assist them in their last moments, we are
carried in a cart with so bad a bottom, that we are every
moment in danger of falling to the ground. Be pleased,
therefore, Monseigneur, to order that some better boards
may be put to the cart." Cardinal Richelieu laughed
heartily at this request, and gave orders directly that the
cart should be thoroughly repaired. Father Bernard was
ever ready to assist the unhappy by his good offices, for
which purpose he one day presented a petition to a noble-
man in place, who being of a very hasty temper, flew into
a violent passion, and said a thousand injurious things of
the person for whom the priest interested himself, but
Bernard still persisted in his request; at which the
nobleman was at last so irritated, that he gave him a box
on the ear. Bernard immediately fell at his feet, and,
presenting the other ear, said, " Give me a good blow on
this also, my lord, and grant my petition." The nobleman
was so affected by this apparent humility as to grant
Bernard's request. He died March 23, 1641. The
French clergy had such a veneration for him as often to
solicit that he might be enrolled in the calendar of saints.
In 1638 he founded the school of the Thirty-three, so
called from the number of years our Saviour passed on
earth, and a very excellent seminary. Immediately after
his death appeared " Le Testament du reverend pere
Bernard, et ses pensees pieuses," Paris, 1641, 8vo, and
♦' Le Recit des choses arrivees a la mort du rev. pere

BERNARD. 325

Bernard," same year. The abbe Papillon also quotes a
work entitled, " Entretiens pendant sa demiere maladie."
His life was written by several authors, by Legauffre,
Giry, de la Serre, Gerson, and Lampereur the Jesuit.
This last, which was published at Paris, 1708, 12mo, is
too full of visions, revelations, and miracles, to afford any
just idea of Bernard. — Lavocat. Biog. Univ.

Bernard, Edward, was born in 1638, at Paulerspury,
in Northamptonshire. From Merchant-Taylor's school, he
went to St John's college, Oxford, of which society he
became fellow, and proceeded B.D. in 1668. The same
year he went to Leyden to consult the oriental manu-
scripts in that university, particularly one of Apollonius
Pergaeus on conic sections, which he transcribed with a
view to publication, though the design was prevented. It
was, however, printed by Dr Halley. In 1669 he was
appointed deputy to sir Christopher Wren in the Savilian
professorship of astronomy, and in 1673 he succeeded
that great man on his resignation of the chair. About
this time a plan was formed for publishing all the ancient
mathematicians, and Id Bernard being selected for the
work, printed a part of Euclid as a specimen, but this
design fell to the ground. He was equally unfortunate in
his undertaking of a new edition of Josephus, but his
collections for this purpose were made a proper use of by
Havercamp. In 1676 he went to France as tutor to the
dukes of Grafton and Northumberland, and in 1683 he
visited Leyden again, to be present at the sale of Nicholas
Heinsius's library. The year following he took his doc-
tor's degree, and in 1691, on being presented to the
rectory of Brightwell, in Berkshire, resigned his professor-
ship. In 169*2 he was employed in drawing up a cata-
logue of the MSS in Great Britain and Ireland, which
was printed at Oxford in 1697, folio. Towards the close
of his life he was much afflicted with the stone, notwith-
standing which, such was his thirst for knowledge, that

VOL. H. 2 E

326 BERNARD.

he took a third voyage to Holland to attend the sale of
Golius's library. Soon after his retnrn he fell into a con-
sumption, and died in 1696. His remains were interred
in the chapel of St John's college, where his widow, to
whom he had been married four years, erected a monu-
ment to his memory. Besides some papers in the Philo-
sophical Transactions, he published — 1. A Treatise of the
ancient Weights and Measures, printed first in English,
and afterwards in Latin, at Oxford. 2. Private Devo-
tions, with an Explication of the Commandments, 12mo.
3. Orbis eruditi Literatura a charactere Samaritico deducta ;
a folio sheet, in copper plate. 4. Etymologia Britannica,
4to. 5. An edition of Guise's " Misuse pars prima," 4to,
6. Chronologiae Samaritanas Synopsis. 7. Annotationes
in Epistolam S. Barnabse, 8vo. 8. Short Notes upon
Cotelerius's edition of the Fathers. 9. Veterum Testi-
monia de Versione, lxxii. Interpretum, 8vo. His library
was sold by auction after his death, except a portion pur-
chased for the Bodleian collection. — Biog. Brit.

Bernard, James, was bom at Nions, in Dauphine in
1658, and was educated at Geneva. At the age of twenty-
one he was chosen minister of Venterol, in Dauphine, from
whence he removed to Vinsobres in the same province ;
but having preached in places interdicted by the king, he
retired to Geneva, next to Lausanne, and afterwards to
Holland, where he was appointed one of the ministers of
Ganda. He obtained leave, however, to fix his residence
at the Hague, where he taught mathematics and philo-
sophy, and commenced a political journal on the state of
Europe. In 1692 he began his " Lettres Historiques,"
upon the same plan ; and he also continued the Biblio-
theque Universelle of his friend and relation, Le Clerc. In
1669 he published Actes et Negociations de la Paix de
Rvsw'ic," 4 vols. 12mo. The next year appeared a general
collection of Treaties of Peace, in 4 vols, folio, but he did
not put his name to either of these works. He avowed,

BERNARD. 327

However, his continuation of Bayle's " Xouvelles de la
Republique des Lettres," which he began in 1698, and
carried on to the year 1710. The reputation which he
had acquired induced the Walloon church of Leyden to
elect him for their minister, but the appointment was lost
by the interference of king William, who disliked his
republican politics. On the death of that monarch he
succeeded in obtaining the appointment, and was also
chosen professor of philosophy and mathematics in that
university. In 1716 he published a supplement to
Moreri's dictionary. He died in 1718. Besides the
above works he published — 1. Le Theatre des etats du
due de Savoie, traduit du Latin de Bleau, 2 vols, folio.
2. Traite de la Repentance tardive, 12ino. 3. De
l'excellence de la religion Chretienne, 2 vols. 8vo. A
translation of this work into English was published in
1793, 8vo, with the life of the author, and notes. — Moreri

Beenakd, Nicholas. The place and time of his birth is
not stated, but he was educated at Cambridge, where he
took his M.A. degree. He was matriculated at Oxford, in
1628, and being chaplain to archbishop Usher, obtained
a doctor's degree at Trinity college, Dublin. Through the
archbishop's interest he was made dean of Ardagh. In
1642 he returned to England, and was presented to the
rectory of Whitchurch, in Shropshire. Having complied
with the ruling powers, and become an apostate from his
religion, he was made chaplain to Cromwell, and preacher to
the society of Gray's Inn. On the restoration of Charles II,
his easy religion enabled him to conform, and to retain
his rich living. Having no inclination to run the risk of
martyrdom, he did not return to his deanery in Ireland :
Whitchurch was indeed the more lucrative appointment.
He died in 1661. His works are — 1. The penitent Death
of a woeful Sinner, or the penitent Death of John Atherton,
bishop of Waterford, with a sermon on the same, 8vo.
2. Proceedings of the Siege of Drogheda, 4to. 3. A Dia-
logue between Paul and Agrippa, 4to. 4. A Farewell

328 BERNARD.

Sermon preached at Drogheda, 8vo. 5. The Life ancl
Death of archbishop Usher, 8vo. 6. The judgment of the
late archbishop of Armagh, on the extent of Christ's Death ;
secondly, of the Sabbath, &c. 8vo. 7. A Defence of this
last work against Dr Heylin. 8. Devotions of the ancient
Church, 8vo. 9. Clavi Trabales, or nails fastened by some
great masters of assemblies, on the King's Supremacy, &c.
4to. — Biog. Brit.

Bernard, John, was born at Caistor, in Lincolnshire.
He was educated at Queen's college, Cambridge, but
removed soon afterwards to Oxford, where, by the parlia-
mentary visitors, he was made fellow of Lincoln college
in 1648. He married Letice, daughter of the celebrated
Peter Heylin, but his connection with that loyal and reli-
gious family did not lead him to change his principles
while the rebels were in power. His " Censura Cleri, or
Against scandalous Ministers, not fit to be restored to the
churches livings in point of Prudence, Piety, and Fame,"
was published in 1659, and was aimed as a blow against
those unfortunate incumbents who, in 1654, had been
ejected from their livings by Cromwell's triers. Bernard
had valuable preferment in Lincolnshire, which he retained
at the restoration by conforming. He obtained also a
prebend in Lincoln cathedral. He died in 1683. He
published two works in vindication of Peter Heylin, his
father-in-law. The first of these is entitled, Theologo-
Historicus ; or the true Life of the most Rev Divine, and
excellent Historian, Peter Heylin, D.D., Sub-Dean of
Westminster, Lond. 1683, 8vo. It is professedly an
answer to a life, treated as defective and calumnious, of
that eminent man, by Vernon. Bernard's other vindi-
cation is printed with this, and is entitled, An Answer to
Mr Baxter's false accusations of Dr Heylin. — Wood's
AthencB.

Bernardin of Siena, so called because his family,
named Albizeschi, came from that city, was bom at Massa

BERNARDIX.

Carrara, where his father was then chief magistrate,
September 8, 1380. Having lost his mother when he was
three, and his father when he was seven years old, he was
educated by one of his aunts till he was thirteen years of
age, and then his relatives sent for him to Siena, where he
studied grammar under Onuphrius, and philosophy under
John of Spoletta. Some time after he entered into the
confraternity of the disciplinators of the hospital of the
Scala in Siena ; there he assisted with much fervour and
zeal those who were infected with the plague, and practised
great austerities. In the year 1405, he made profession of
the rule of St Francis, in the monastery of the Observan-
tines of Columbarius, which was near to Siena. Being
ordained priest, he addicted himself to preaching, and
founded in Italy many new monasteries of the Observan-
tines, and reformed those that were ancient. He was after-
wards sent to Jerusalem, and made guardian of the Holy
Land ; and having returned from thence, he continued
to preach in Italy ; and to stir up the devotion of the
people towards our Lord, he had a custom of shewing the
name of Jesus, painted iu a circle surrounded with the
sun, and made a great many such pictures, which sold
very well. His enemies accused him of affirming in his
sermons many false things, and delated him to pope
Martin the fifth, who cited him to appear before himself,
and caused his works to be examined : but finding no-
thing in them worthy of condemnation, the pope having
heard his defence, absolved him, and sent him back,
with permission to continue his preaching. The cities of
Siena, Ferrara, and Urbin, desired pope Eugenius the IVth
to make him their bishop, but he refused the bishopric,
not withstau ding the importunity of this pope in urging
it upon him : he would only accept of the title of vicar-
general of the friars of the Observantines for all Italy: and
there he reformed or founded anew nearly three hundred
monasteries. He died, at last, in the citv of Aquila. in
■) e2

330 BERRIMAN.

Abruzzo, May the 20th, 1444. He was canonized by
Nicolas V, in 1450.

His works have been printed at Venice, in 1591, by
the care of Rodulphus, bishop of Sinigaglia ; and at Paris,
in 1636, by the care of Peter de la Haye, in two volumes
in folio. — Dupin.

Berriman, William, was born September 24th, 1688,
and was the son of Mr John Berriman, apothecary, in
Bishopsgate-street, and the grandson of the Rev Mr Berri-
man, rector of Bedington, in Surry. He had his primary
education at Banbury, in Oxfordshire, and at Merchant-
Taylor's school. At seventeen years of age he was entered
as a commoner at Oriel college, in Oxford, where he took
his several degrees, when of proper standing. He was
curate and lecturer of Allhallows, in Thames-street, and
lecturer of St Michael's, Queenhithe. He was appointed
domestic chaplain to Dr Robinson, bishop of London, in
1720, and was soon after collated by him to the living of
St Andrews, Undershaft.

In the year 1727 he was elected fellow of Eton college,
by the interest of Dr Godolphin, the provost, without any
solicitation. Here he chiefly resided in the summer, and
in his parsonage house in the winter, where he died
February 5th, 1749-50, in the sixty-second year of his
age ; leaving behind him a high character for learning,
practical good sense, integrity, and strict regard for his
professional obligations of every kind.

His writings are, a seasonable Review of Mr Whilon's
Account of primitive Doxologies, printed in the year 1719.
An historical account of the Trinitarian Controversy, in
eight sermons at lady Movers lecture, 1715. A defence
of some passages in the historical account, 1731. Brief
Remarks on Mr Chandler's Introduction to the History of
the Inquisition, 1733. A Review of the Remarks. Ser-
mons at Boyle's lectures, in 2 vols, 8vo, 1733.

Besides these he published many occasional sermons in

BERTRAM. 331

his life time, and after his death several others were
published by his brother John Berriman, M.A. from his
original MSS, under the title of Christian Doctrines and
Duties explained and recommended. — Gen. Biog. Diet.

Bertram, The Priest. This is the ordinary designa-
tion of an author who took a distinguished part in the
controversy concerning the Eucharist in the ninth cen-
tury, when the doctrine of transubstantiation was first in-
troduced into the Church. His proper name was Ratramn,
which seems to have been converted into Bertram by the
affix of BE, the first syllable of Beatus, frequently placed
before names of persons esteemed for their piety and
learning. Be-Ratram, by the carelessness of transcribers,
came in process of time to be written Bertram.

He was in all probability a native of France, and of the
province of Picardy, where he became a monk in the early
part of the ninth century. He was educated in the Bene-
dictine monastery of Corbey, in the diocese of Amiens.
In this cloister he became a proficient in the study of
divinity, and, like most divines of the age, was deeply read
in the Scriptures. He was here ordained priest, and
after the death of Baro he was, as is generally supposed,
promoted to the government of the monastery of Orbais,
in the diocese of Soissons, by Charles the Bald.

That he was in great esteem in his own age is evident
from the fact that he was consulted by Charles the Bald
upon points of such moment as the predestination con-
troversy, and the controversy relating to Christ's pre-
sence in the Holy Sacrament of the Altar. The first
of his writings extant is that of the Manner of Christ's
Birth, which was written before 844. His two Books
on Predestination were written, as the president Mauguin
conjectures, in 850. In 853 he wrote a book to justify
the use of an old hymn, which Hincmar of Rheims
had commanded to be altered, directing that instead
of Te, Trina Deitas, should be used the words, Te,
Summa Deitas, imagining the former expression to make

332 BERTRAM.

three Gods : Ratramn asserted the expression to be ortho-
dox by the authority of St Hilary and St Augustine.
This work is lost. He also wrote a book, de Anima,
at the instance of Odo, sometime abbot of Corbey and
bishop of Beauvais, against a monk of the same convent,
who taught that all men had but one and the same soul.
This book is extant in manuscript in the library of
Bennet college, Cambridge, in that of Salisbury cathedral,
and in that of St Eligius, at Noyon, in France, but not
printed.

About the year 868, pope Nicolas I, having desired
Hincmar and the French bishops to consider and answer
the objections of the Greeks against the Latin church
and Hincmar, having emplo}Ted Odo, bishop of Beauvais,
therein, it is probable he recommended Ratramn to the
bishops, as a man fit to undertake such a work, and
accordingly he wrote four books on that occasion, published
by Dacherius.

There is also among the MSS in the Leipsic library, an
epistle concerning the Cynocephali, whether they be truly
men and of Adam's seed, or brute creatures? What
moved him to discuss this question, or how he hath
determined it, is not known. The epistle is directed to
one Rimbert, a presbyter, the same, probably, who suc-
ceeded Anscharius in the see of Breme, and wrote his
life.

His great work, De Corpore et Sanguine Domini,
concerning the Body and Blood of our Lord, was
most probably written in the year 850. As this work
excited extraordinary attention about the time of the
reformation, the reader shall be supplied with extracts
from it. It is one of those works which proves, to the
infinite perplexity of the papists, that the doctrine of
tran substantiation was a novelty in the ninth century, and
that it was not introduced into the Church without the
opposition of the more orthodox divines.

The mode of the real presence in the Sacrament of the
Lord's Supper, is left undefined in Holy Scripture. It is

BERTEAM. 333

a subject od which there is a natural desire, however,
that something positive should be asserted. What are
we precisely to believe on this point ? is a question which
will occur to the mind. The Scriptures give no clear
answer, the primitive church gives no clear answer, the
church of England gives no clear answer. All that is
declared is, that " the Body and Blood of Christ are
verily and indeed taken and received by the faithful in
the Lord's Supper." The mode of the presence is not
stated. Before the ninth century attempts had been
made to define the mode of this mystery. But Charle-
magne having, in an epistle to Alcuin, expressed his belief
that the sacramental elements are figures of Christ's Body
and Blood, the question, though stated, was not agitated
among polemics while he swayed the sceptre. The church
of England, it is well known, believed in the spiritual
presence only, at the distance of more than two centuries
from the death of Charlemagne. In the earlier part of
the ninth century, however, inquisitive minds on the
continent were fixed upon this subject, in consequence of
a work offered to the world by Paschasius Radbert, abbot
of Corbey. In this he asserted that the Lord's Body,
received in the eucharistic sacrifice, is the same Body
that was born of the Virgin ; although even he did not
proceed to the length of asserting that the elements were
transubstantiated, but rather taught that they were united
with the Incarnate Deity. His doctrine was no sooner
published, than it met with violent opposition. Charles
the Bald, anxious to form a sound opinion upon the con-
troversy which Radbert had excited, applied, as we have
before stated, to Ratramn : and from his most valuable
treatise we learn, not only that the doctrine of transub-
stantiation was not then established, but also that then,
as now, in the church of England, there existed no doctrine
as to the mode of Christ's presence in the Holy Sacrament:
"while some of the faithful," observes Ratramn, "say
concerning the Body and Blood of Christ, which is daily
celebrated in the Church, that there is no veil nor figure,

334 BERTRAM.

but that the very thing itself is openly and really exhibited;
and others of them affirm, that these things, (viz. the Body
and Blood of Christ,) are present in a mystery or figure ;
that it is one thing that appears to our bodily eyes, and
another thing that our faith beholds ; it is plain, there
is no small difference in judgment among them : and
whereas the Apostle writes to the faithful, that they
should all think and speak the same thing, and that there
should be no schism among them ; there is no small
division and schism among those who believe and speak
differently concerning the mystery of the Body and Blood
of Christ.

In noticing the doctrine he first defines what a Figure
is, and what the Truth.

" A figure is a certain covert manner of expression,
which exhibits what it intends under certain veils. For
example ; we call the woed bread, as in the Lords Prayer,
we beg that God would give us our daily bread : or as
Christ in the gospel speaks, I am the living bread that
came down from heaven. Or when he calls Himself a
vine, and His disciples branches, I am the true vine, and
ye are the branches. In all these instances, one thing is
said and another thing is understood.

" The truth is the representation of the very thing itself,
not veiled with any shadow or figure, but expressed accord-
ing to the pure and naked (or to speak more plainly yet)
natural signification of the words. As when we say that
Christ was born of a Virgin, suffered, was crucified, dead
and buried : here is nothing shadowed out under the
coverture of figures, but the very truth of the thing is ex-
pressed, according to the natural signification of the words ;
nor is any thing here understood but what is said. But
in the fore- mentioned instances it is not so. For in sub-
stance, neither is Christ bread, or a vine, nor the apostles
branches. These are figures, but in the other the plain
and naked truth is related.

" Now let us return to the subject which hath occasion-
ed the saying of all this, viz. the Body and Blood of Christ.

BERTRAM. 335

If there be no figure in that mystery, it is not properly
called a mystery ; for that cannot be said to be a mystery,
which hath nothing secret, nothing remote from our bodily
senses, nothing covered under any veil. But as for that
bread, which by the ministry of the priest, is made Christ's
body, it sheweth one thing outwardly to our senses, and
inwardly proclaims quite another thing to the minds of
the faithful. That which outwardly appears is bread, as
it was before in form, colour, and taste : but inwardly there
is quite another thing presented to us, and that much
more precious and excellent, because it is heavenly and
divine : that is, Christ's Body is exhibited which is beheld,
received, and eaten, not by our carnal senses, but by the
sight of the believing soul.

" Likewise the wine, which by the priest's consecration,
is made the Sacrament of Christ's Blood, appears one
thing outwardly, and inwardly contains aD other : for what
doth outwardly appear but the substance of wine ? Taste
it, there is the relish of wine ; smell it, there is the scent
of wine ; behold it, there is the colour of wine. But if
you consider it inwardly, then it is not the liquor of wine,
but the liquor of Christ's Blood, which is tasted, seen, and
smelt. Since these things are undeniable, it is evident,
that the bread and wine are figuratively the Body and
Blood of Christ : as to outward appearance, there is neither
the likeness of flesh to be seen in that bread, nor the
liquor of blood in that wine, and yet after the mystical
consecration, they are no longer called bread and wine,
but the Body and Blood of Christ."

Having produced some additional arguments, he says
further, " Let us consider the font of Holy Baptism, which
is not undeservedly styled the fountain of life, because it
regenerates those who descend into it, to the newness of a
better life ; and makes those who were dead in sins, alive
unto righteousness. Is it the visible element of water
which hath this efficacy ? Verily, unless it had obtained
a sanctifying virtue, it could by no means wash away the
stain of our sins : and if it had not a quickening power, it

336 BERTRAM.

could not at all give life to the dead. The dead I mean
not as to their bodies, but to their souls. Yet if in that
fountain you consider nothing but what the bodily sense
beholdeth, you see only a fluid element of a corruptible
nature, and capable of washing the body only. But the
power of the Holy Ghost, came upon it by the priests
consecration, and it obtained thereby an efficacy to wash
not the bodies only, but also the souls of men ; and by a
spiritual virtue, to take away their spiritual filth.

" Behold, how in one and the same element, are seen
two things contrary to each other; a thing corruptible,
giving incorruption ; and a thing without life, giving
life. It is manifest then, that in the font, there is both
somewhat, which the bodily sense perceiveth, which is
therefore mutable and corruptible ; and somewhat which
the eye of faith only beholds, and therefore is neither
corruptible nor mortal. If you enqure what washes the
outside, it is the element; but if you consider what
purgeth the inside, it is a quickening power, a sanctifying
power, a power conferring immortality. So then in its
own nature, it is a corruptible liquor, but in the mystery,
it is a healing power.

" Thus also the Body and Blood of Christ, considered as
to the outside only, is a creature subject to change and
corruption. But if you ponder the efficacy of the mys-
tery, it is life conferring immortality, on such as partake
thereof. Therefore they are not the same things which
are seen, and which are believed. For the things seen,
feed a corruptible body, being corruptible themselves ;
but those which are believed, feed immortal souls, being
themselves immortal."

The doctrine is then enforced by other instances of
figurative language occuring in Scripture, such as no man
ever dreamt of expounding literally. In explanation of
John, vi. 53, he says, " We ought to consider how those
words of our Saviour are to be understood, wherein he
saith, Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man, and
drink his blood, ye have not life in you. For he doth

BERTRAM. 33H

not say, that His flesh which hung on the cross, should
be cut in pieces, and eaten by His disciples ; or that His
blood, which He was to shed for the redemption of the
world, should be given His disciples to drink : for it had
been a crime for His disciples to have eaten His flesh, and
drunk His blood, in the sense that the unbelieving Jews
then understood Him.

" Wherefore, in the following words He saith to His dis-
ciples, who did not disbelieve that saying of Christ, though
they did not yet penetrate the true meaning of it. ' Doth
this offend you ? What if ye shall see the Son of Man
ascending up where He was before ?' As though He should
say, ' Think not that you must eat my flesh and drink my
blood corporally, divided into small pieces : for, when after
my resurrection, you shall see me ascend into the heavens
with my body entire, and all my blood, then you shall
understand that the faithful must eat my flesh, not in the
manner which these unbelievers imagine ; but that indeed
believers must receive it, bread and wine being mystically
turned into the substance of my body and blood.

" And after, It is the Spirit, saith He, that quickeneth,
the flesh profiteth nothing. He saith, the flesh profiteth
nothing, taken as those infidels understood Him, but other-
wise it giveth life, as it is taken mystically by the faithful.
And why so? He himself shews, when He saith, It is the
Spirit that quickeneth : therefore in this mystery of the
Body and Blood of Christ, there is a spiritual operation,
which giveth life ; without which operation the mysteries
profit nothing; because they may indeed feed the body,
but cannot feed the soul."

He then proceeds to shew that the fathers of the Church
before him understood the doctrine in the same sense:
summing up his argument thus, " What do we learn
hence, but that the Body and Blood of Christ are there-
fore called mysteries, because they contain a secret and
hidden dispensation? That is, it is one thing which tncy
outwardly make shew of, and another thing, which they
operate inwardly and invisibly.
2f 2

338 BERTRAM.

" And for this reason they are called Sacraments, be-
cause, under the covert of bodily things, a divine power
doth secretly dispense salvation (or grace) to them that
faithfully receive them.

" By all that hath been hitherto said, it appears, that
the Body and Blood of Christ, which are received by the
mouths of the faithful in the Church, are figures in respect
of their visible nature ; but in respect of the invisible
substance, that is, the power of the word of God, they are
truly Christ's Body and Blood. Wherefore as they are
visible creatures, they feed the body ; but as they have
the virtue of a more powerful substance, they do both feed
and sanctify the souls of the faithful."

He then proceeds to the second question, " Whether
that very Body which was born of Mary, which suffered,
was dead and buried, and which sits at the right hand of
the Father, be the same which is daily received in the
church by the mouths of the faithful in the sacramental
mysteries:" and here too he refers to the fathers and an-
cient liturgies, giving an answer on their authority, to
this question in the negative.

" Your wisdom, most illustrious prince, may observe,
how both by testimonies out of the Holy Scriptures, and
the fathers, it is most evidently demonstrated, that the
bread, which is called the Body of Christ, and the cup,
which is called the Blood of Christ, is a figure, because it
is a mystery ; and that there is a vast difference between
that which is His Body mystically, and that Body which
suffered, was buried, and rose again: for this was our
Saviour's proper Body : nor is there any figure or significa-
tion in it ; but it is the very thing itself. And the faithful
desire the vision of Him, because He is our Head ; and
when we shall see Him, our desire will be satisfied ; for
He and the Father are one ; not in respect of our Saviour's
Body, but forasmuch as the fulness of the Godhead dvvel-
leth in the Man Christ.

li But in that Body which is celebrated in a mystery,
there is a figure, not only of the proper Body of Christ,

BERTRAM. 339

but also of the people which believe in Christ : for it is a
figure representing both bodies ; to wit, that of Christ, in
which He died, and rose again, and that of the people
which are regenerated, and raised from the dead (by
baptism) into Christ.

" And let me add, that the bread and cup, which are
called, and are the Body and Blood of Christ, represent
the memory of the Lord's passion or death ; as Himself
teacheth us in the gospel, saying, ' This do in remem-
brance of Me.' Which St Paul the apostle expounding,
saith, ' As oft as you eat this bread, and drink this cup,
you shew forth the Lord's death till he come.'

" We are here taught both by our Saviour, and also by
St Paul the apostle, that the bread and cup which are
placed upon the altar, are set there for a figure, or in re-
membrance of the Lord's death ; that what was really done
long since, may be called to our present remembrance,
that having His passion in our mind, we may be made
partakers of that divine gift, whereby we are saved from
death : knowing well, that when we shall come to the
vision of Christ, we shall need no such instruments to
admonish us, what His infinite goodness was pleased to
suffer for our sakes ; for when we shall see Him face to
face, we shall, not by the outward admonition of temporal
things, but by the contemplation of the very thing itself,
understand how much we are obliged to give thanks to the
Author of our salvation.

" But in what I say, I would not have it thought, that
the Lord's Body and Blood is not received by the faithful
in the sacramental mysteries ; for faith receives not that
which the eye beholds, but what itself believes. It is
spiritual meat, and spiritual drink, spiritually feeding the
soul, and affording a life of eternal satisfaction ; as our
Saviour Himself, commending this mystery, speaks :
1 It is the Spirit that quickeneth, the flesh profiteth
nothing.'"

Xo apology is necessary for having entered into an
analysis of this treatise, which was very serviceable to our

340 BERULLE.

reformers, when they renounced the doctrine of transub-
stantiation. " This Bertram," says bishop Ridley, "first
pulled me by the ear, and that first brought me from the
common error of the Romish Church, and caused me to
search more diligently both the Scriptures and the writings
of the old ecclesiastical fathers on this matter."

The sentiments of Ratramn were in accordance with
those of almost all among his contemporaries whose names
are celebrated : Rabanus Mauras, the bishop of Mentz ;
Agobard, archbishop of Lyons ; Claudius, bishop of Turin;
the illustrious John Scot, usually designated Erigena;
Druthmar, and several other authors of high repute in their
day, who lent their aid to stay the progress of that un-
scriptural fancy, by which the superstitious were labouring
to embarrass the Eucharistic question. For the further
history of this controversy the reader is referred to the
articles on Berengarius and Lanfranc.

Ratramn died about the year 870. — Ratramni Liber
de Corpore et Sanguine Domini., with the treatises prefixed.
Ridley's Life of Ridley. Soames' History of Reformation.

Bertramn, Cornelius Bonaventure, professor of He-
brew at Geneva and Lausanne, was born at Thouars, in
Poitou, in 1531, and died at Lausanne in 1594. He
published — 1. A Dissertation on the Republic of the
Hebrews. 2. A Revision of the French Bible of Geneva.
3. Pagnini's Thesaurus Linguae Sanctae. 4. A Parallel
of the Hebrew and Syriac Languages. 5. Lucubrationes
Frankendalenses. — Moreri.

Berulle, Peter de, wras born at the chateau de
Serilli, near Troyes, in Champagne, on the 4th of February,
1575, and was early distinguished for his piety and learn-
ing. At the conference of Fontainbleau, he argued with
the protestants of France, and obtained the approbation
of friends and foes, equally for his learning, his winning
address, and his gentle deportment. He was sent into
Spain in 1603; for the purpose of inducing some of the

BERULLE. 341

Carmelites to settle in Paris ; and with considerable diffi-
culty, after encountering much opposition, he succeeded
in establishing that order in France. But he is chiefly
distinguished for having founded, in 1613, the congrega-
tion of the oratory in France ; an order which had been
recently established in Italy by Philip Neri. He was
solicited to undertake this work by Francis de Sales, and
had to overcome the opposition of the Jesuits. He had
made a vow in early life not to accept any ecclesiastical
dignity, and he resisted the offer of some wealthy bishop-
rics made to him by Henry IV. and Louis XIII. Upon
Louis's threatening to apply to the pope to compel him to
break his vow, and to accept the bishopric of Leon, Berulle
replied, that "if the king continued to press him he should
be obliged to quit the kingdom." But one of the abomi-
nations of popery is the light regard which is paid to vows
and oaths. The conduct of Louis, just alluded to, is a
proof of this ; and he was correct in supposing that the
pope would at his solicitation release Berulle from his
vow, for this Urban VIII, in 1627, did, when he created
him a cardinal, and caused him to accept two abbacies to
support his dignity. The appointment justly gave offence
to the French bishops ; and Berulle ought to have died
rather than have submitted to the indignity of the car-
dinalate. Berulle was employed in soliciting at Rome the
dispensation under which Henrietta Maria was married to
Charles I. He undertook the office with a bold, indepen-
dent spirit, and threw the blame of the schism upon the
want of a proper conciliating spirit on the part of Rome
towards Henry VIII. The court of Rome took the hint ;
although the difficulty could not have been great to obtain
a dispensation, on political grounds then existing, from a
court and church so venal and so open to worldly influ-
ences as that of Rome. Much is said against mixed mar-
riages by Romish divines, but the doctrine is only enforced
against the poor. The royal, the noble, and the wealthy,
can do as they will, after submitting to the farce of obtain-
2f2

342 BERYLLUS.

ing a dispensation. Berulle accompanied Henrietta Maria
to England, and gained universal respect by his discretion
and the amiability of his manners. He died suddenly,
October 2nd, 1629, aged fifty-five, while celebrating the
Holy Eucharist.

His works, chiefly controversial, were printed in two
vols, folio, in 1644, and they were reprinted in one volume
in 1647. — Cerisi. Doni d'Attici. Carraccioli.

Bervllus, bishop of Bostra, in Arabia, about the year
244, was regarded with respect and esteem by his contem-
poraries until he asserted a doctrine contrary to the Catholic
faith, with reference to our Blessed Lord and Saviour.
According to Eusebius he erred, " in daring to affirm that
our Lord and Savoiur, before His coming among men, had
no proper different subsistence ; neither any Godhead of
His own, but only the Deity of the Father residing in Him."
In explanation, Valesius, in his note upon the passage,
shews that Beryllus erred in that he believed Christ had
no proper personality before His Incarnation ; but he was
orthodox in that he held that Christ had not a Godhead
proper to Himself, only the Godhead of the Father residing
in Him, for the Godhead of the Father, and of the Son, and
of the Holy Ghost, is all one, the glory equal, the majesty
co-eternal : otherwise there would be three Gods, not one
God : therefore if this were Beryllus's opinion he may be
excused ; but he erred on this head in that he asserted
that the Son by Himself is not properly God, but has
only a derivative divinity from the Father. For if he
asserted that the Son subsisted not personally before
His Incarnation, it follows that he deprived Him of His
divinity. "

Many disputes and conferences having been held by
the bishops against Beryllus without effect, Origen was
sent for. Origen at first entered into a friendly discourse
with Beryllus to ascertain what his opinions really were,
and when he discovered them he reprehended him for his

BESSARION. 343

want of orthodoxy. Origen having at length convinced
the bishop of his error, "took him as it were by the hand,"
as Eusebius says, "and set him in the way of true doc-
trine, and reinstated him in his former sound opinion."
In the time of Eusebius the record of this conference was
extant. Beryllus, besides some epistles to Origen, thank-
ing him for his conversion, left behind him what Eusebius
styles "several monuments of an elegant genius," by which
Valesius thinks that he means hymns and poems. None
of his works have come down to us. — Eusebius, with VaU-
sius's Notes.

Bessariox, Johx, was born at Trebisond, either in 1389
or in 1395. He was educated under the philosopher
Gemislius Pletho, who had the honour of introducing the
study of Plato among the scholars of the West. He en-
tered a monastery in the Peloponesus, and became a monk
of the order of St Basil. In this monastery he remained
for twenty-one years, employed in intellectual pursuits,
and became one of the most distinguished scholars of
the age. In the meantime his country was threatened
with destruction, and the Byzantine throne was evidently
about to fall a prey to Turkish ambition. Under these
circumstances John Palaeologus the emperor perceived that
his chief reliance under God, rested on the assistance he
might obtain from the European provinces, whose sym-
pathy was hopeless without concessions to the Latin
Church. He accordingly expressed a disposition for
such ; and it so happened that pope Eugenius IV was in
such circumstances as to render it equally desirable for
him to enter into a negociation with the Greeks.

A council had been assembled at Basil, in Switzerland,
in the year 1431. It was convened by Martin V, and his
successor Eugenius IV. The object which the fathers
here assembled set before them, and pursued with eager-
ness, was the reform of the many abuses in the Church,
which had been the fertile subject of complaint for many
years. The avarice and sensual vices of successive popes

344 BESSARION.

had b een a scandal to the Church for many years, and the
council of Basil conferred anew the decrees of Constance,
concerning the superiority of a general council over the
bishop of Rome, its power to punish him if refractory, and
its freedom from being dissolved by him. The resolution
of the synod was supported by the emperor of Germany,
the king of France, and the duke of Milan. But the
regulations referred to, and others, which restored the
Church to her liberty, and restrained the tyrannical and
most injurious usurpation of the Roman pontiff, not
unnaturally excited the wrath of Eugenius, and a warm
and violent contest ensued between the pope and the
council. The latter summoned Eugenius to appear before
them at Basil on the 26th day of June, 1437, in order to
give an account of his conduct ; but the pontiff, instead of
complying with the summons, issued a decree by which he
pretended to dissolve the council, and to assemble another
at Ferrara. Although this decree was treated with the
utmost contempt by the council, who pronounced sentence
of contumacy against the rebellious pontiff for having
refused to obey their order; yet in 1438 Eugenius opened
in person the council which he had summoned to meet at
Ferrara.

Thus were there two parties in the West anxious to
enter into a treaty with the Byzantine emperor and the
Greek church, in order to strengthen their hands. The
council of Basil had invited the emperor and the patriarch
of Constantinople to unite with them ; they agreed to pay
his travelling expenses ; to remit an immediate sum of
eight thousand ducats for the accommodation of the Greek
clergy ; and in his absence to grant a supply of ten thou-
sand ducats, with three hundred archers, and some galleys
for the protection of Constantinople. But Eugenius was
sensible of the importance of the emperor of the Greeks.
He solicited his friendship; and to transport the Byzantine
prince to Ferrara, he despatched nine galleys, with the
persuasive argument of fifteen thousand ducats and the
most splendid promises. In an evil hour John Palaeologus

BESSARION. 345

accepted the invitation of the pope: had he adhere 1 to the
council of Basil it is probable that the papal authority
would, if not overthrown, have been circumscribed within
just limits, and the Eastern and Western Churches might
have been once again united. But to Ferrara the Greek
emperor repaired with the aged patriarch Joseph, and a
various retinue of bishops and ministers, of monks and
philosophers : among whom was Bessarion, now dignified
with the title of archbishop of Nice.

When they arrived at Ferrara the etiquette necessary to
be observed by the visitors and the visited first engrossed
their attention The pride of the pope yielded to sound
policy, and, dispensing with the honours usually shewn
him on such occasions, he received Palaeologus and
his patriarch with a salutation of union and charity,
although the Greek ecclesiastics refused a compliance
with the ceremony of kissing the pope's foot. The chief
points to be got over were the doctrine of purgatory, the
papal supremacy, and the procession of the Holy Spirit
from the Son, all which the Greeks denied. In the midst
of the discussions a fever broke out at Ferrara, and the
council was removed to Florence, an arrangement to which
the Greek patriarch and bishops did not consent without
considerable hesitation. At Florence the discussions were
resumed. The Romanists were supported by the elo-
quence of cardinal Julian, while Bessarion and Mark of
Ephesus headed the Greeks. If Bessarion was surpassed
by Mark in powers of reasoning, his skill and eloquence
as a disputant made him more than a match for the most
powerful advocates on the papal side. But the champion
of the Eastern church was not inaccessible to flattery
and bribes, and he became an apostate and a papist He
was immediately employed by the pope to corrupt others ;
and by rewards, persuasions, threats, and promises, eigh-
teen of the Eastern bishops were induced to sign the decree
made in the tenth session, declaring that the Holy Ghost
proceedeth from the Father and the Son : that the Sacra-
ment is validly consecrated in unleavened as well as in

346 BESSARION

leavened bread : that there is a purgatory : and that the
Roman pontiff is primate and head of the whole Church.
The patriarch of Constantinople, (who died at the council,)
Mark of Ephesus, the patriarch of Heraclea, and Athana
sius, remained uncorrupted.

The Greek deputies returned to Constantinople, and
were received there with one burst of indignation.

The Greek church indignantly rejected all that had
been done, and in a council at Constantinople, held,
according to their own account, a year and a half after
the termination of that of Florence, all the Florentine
proceedings were declared null and void, and the synod
was condemned. The patriarch of Constantinople, Gregory,
who had succeeded Joseph, and was inclined to the Latins,
was deposed, and Athanasius chosen in his stead. The
patriarchs of Alexandria, Antioch, Jerusalem, and the
chiefs of the old patriarchates of Ephesus, Heraclea, and
Cassarea, were all present and concerned in these transac-
tions. The subscribing ecclesiastics instead of justifying,
deplored their weakness : "Alas! we have been seduced
by distress, by fraud, and by the hopes and fears of a
transitory life. The hand that has signed the union
should be cut off; and the tongue that has pronounced
the Latin creed deserves to be torn from the root," was the
answer to the reproachful question, what had become of the
Italian synod.

It may be here remarked, that although the synod of
Florence is considered as oecumenical by ultra-montane
papists, it was rejected not only by the Eastern church,
but also by many of the Western churches. Cardinal de
Lorraine declared in the synod of Trent, 1563, that the
university of Paris did not hold the synod of Florence as
oecumenical. Launoi says, that the Gallican church does
not number it among general councils.

We may well suppose that Bessarion was in no enviable
predicament when he returned to his native land : he
was branded as a bastard Greek, false to his country and
his church, and was generally abhored as an apostate.

BESSARION. 347

He fled from disgrace in his own country to enjoy the
rewards of his apostacy in Italy. Already, in 1439, the
grateful Eugenius had made him a cardinal, and, under
Nicholas V, he became archbishop of Siponto and cardinal
bishop. Pius II, in 1463, mocked him with the title of
patriarch of Constantinople; an insult to the Greek
church, which only exasperated them yet more against
Bessarion. On the death of Nicholas V, and again on
the death of Paul II, Bessarion had a fair chance of being
himself elected to the papal throne.

His learning, and his patronage of learned men, added
to the simplicity of his habits, in spite of wealth and high
station, rendered him extremely popular. His house was
the resort of men of genius, and when he appeared abroad
his train was composed of the most distinguished scholars
of the age. He was employed in some embassies of a
difficult and delicate kind, but it would seem that his
skill as a politician was not so great, as his genius in
literature. On his return from an embassy to France, in
which he not only failed, but was subjected, it is said, to
the grossest personal indignities from the French king,
he was taken ill at Piavenna, where he died on the 19th of
November, 1472. His funeral, which took place at Piome,
was attended by the pope, an honour not hitherto paid to
the memory of any cardinal. His praises were celebrated
in Latin and Greek verse, and his memory has been
respected in the annals of literature as one of the restorers
of classical learning. He had procured manuscripts,
regardless of expense, from all parts of Greece, and having
thus formed a noble library, he bequeathed it to the senate
of Venice. His most celebrated works were his Latin trans-
lations of Xenophon's Memorabilia, and Aristotle's Meta-
physics, together with a treatise, Contra Calumniatorem
Platonis, and his Orationes de gravissimis Periculis, quae
rei-publicae Christianse a Turcis jam turn impendere pro-
videbat. These two last works are very scarce and much
valued by collectors. Although he left many theological
works, very few of them have been printed. In a collection

348 BEVERIDGE.

of Opuscula Theologica, published at Rome in 1634,
four of his treatises are to be found, and another, De
Sacramento Eucharistiae, was published in the Bibliotheca
Patrum, at Paris. — Hodius de Greeds illustribus. Cave.
Fabricius. Perceval Roman Schism. Palmer on the Church.
Gibbon. Mosheim.

Beveeidge, William, was born in the year 1636-7,
at Barrow upon Soar, near Loughborough, in Leicester-
shire. Having received his primary education, first under
his father, and afterwards at Okeham school, in the county
of Rutland, he was, in 1653, admitted as a sizar at St
John's college, Cambridge. Here his attention was direct-
ed not only to classical pursuits, but to the study also of
the oriental languages ; a study which he recommended
in a Latin treatise, and still more effectually by the pub-
lication of a Syriac grammar, composed when he was only
eighteen years of age, and published two years after.
These publications were of much service in their day, and
were both of them reprinted in 1664. His character at
college, however, was established, not only for proficiency
as a scholar, but for the depth of his piety, and the inte-
grity of his life. What his early piety was may be seen
from a juvenile work published after his death, and even
now in high repute, his " Private Thoughts." This work
was published in 1709, and has often been reprinted. It
displays the piety of his disposition, and notwithstanding
some doctrinal errors, is much valued. He seems in this
work scarcely to have realized the Scripture view of rege-
neration, which is ably expounded in the 35th sermon of
the first volume of his works : —

But what our Lord means by being * born of water and
the Spirit,' is now made a question : I say now, for it was
never made so till of late years. For many ages together
none doubted of it, but the whole Christian world took it
for granted, that our Saviour, by these words, meant only
that except a man be baptized according to his institution,
he cannot enter into the kingdom of God ; this being the

BEVERIDGE. 349

most plain and obvious sense of the words, forasmuch as
there is no other way of being born again of water, as well
as of the Spirit, but only in the Sacrament of Baptism.

" To understand what he means by being born again,
we must call to mind what he saith in another place,
' My kingdom is not of this world ;' (John, xviii. 36.)
though it is in this world, it is not of it; it is not a
secular or earthly kingdom, but a kingdom purely spiritual
and heavenly : ; It is not meat and drink, but righte-
ousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost ;' (Rom.
xiv. 17.) And therefore when a man is born into this
world, he is not thereby qualified for the kingdom of
God, nor hath any right title to it, no more than as
if he had not been born at all; but before he enter
into that, he must be born again, he must undergo
another kind of birth than he had before : he was before
born of the flesh, he must now be born of the Sj)irit;
otherwise he cannot be capable of entering into such
a kingdom, as is altogether spiritual. Thus our Lord
Himself explains his own meaning by adding immedi-
ately in the next words, ' That which is born of the
flesh, is flesh,' &c. . . . As if He had said, he that is
bora, as all men are at first, only of the flesh, such a one
is altogether carnal and sensual ; and so can be affected
with nothing but the sensible objects of this world. But
he that is born of the Spirit of God, thereby becomes a
spiritual creature, and so is capable of those spiritual
things of which the kingdom of God consisteth, ' even of
righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.'
And he whose mind is changed, and turned from darkness
to light, and from the power of Satan unto God, is truly
said to be born again ; because he is quickened with ano-
ther kind of life than he had before ; and to be born of
the Spirit of God, because it is by it that this new and
spiritual life is wrought in him. So that he is now born
into another world, even into the kingdom of God, where
he hath God Himself, of whom he is born, for his Father,
vol. n. 2 G

350 BEVERIDGE.

and the kingdom of God for his portion and inheritance.
And therefore it is, that except a man be thus born of the
Spirit, it is inrpossible he should enter into the kingdom
of God, seeing he can enter into it no other way, than by
being born of the Spirit.

" But thai we may thus be born of the Spirit, we must
be born also of water, which our Saviour here puts in the
first place. Not as if there was any such virtue in water,
whereby it could regenerate us, but because this is the rite
or ordinance appointed by Christ, wherein to regenerate
us by His Holy Spirit. Our regeneration is wholly the
act of the Spirit of Christ ; but there must be something
done on our parts in order to it, and something that is
instituted and ordained by Christ Himself: which in the
Old Testament was circumcision; in the New, baptism, or
washing with water : the easiest that could be invented, and
the most proper to signify His cleansing and regenerat-
ing us by His Holy Spirit. And seeing this is instituted
by Christ Himself, as we cannot be born of water without
the Spirit, neither can we, in an ordinary way, be born of
the Spirit without water, used or applied in obedience
and conformity to His institution. Christ hath joined
them together, and it is not in our power to part them :
he that would be bom of the Spirit, must be born of water
too

"As baptizing necessarily implies the use. of water, so
our being made thereby disciples of Christ, as necessarily
implies our partaking of His Spirit : for all that are bap-
tized, and so made the disciples of Christ, are thereby
made the members of His Body ; and are therefore said
to be baptized into Christ, (Rom. vi. 5. Gal. hi. 27.) But
they who are in Christ, members of His Body, must needs
partake of the Spirit that is in Him their Head. Neither
doth the Spirit of Christ only follow upon, but certainly
accompanies the Sacrament of Baptism, when duly ad-
ministered according to His institution. For as St Paul
saith, ' By one Spirit we are all baptized into one Body/

BEVERIDGE. 351

(1 Cor. xii. 13.) So that in the very act of baptism, the
Spirit unites us unto Christ, and makes us members of
His Body; and if of His Body, then of His Church and
Kingdom, that being all His Body. And therefore all
who are rightly baptized with water, being at the same
time baptized also with the Holy Ghost, and so born of
water and the Spirit, they are, ipso facto, admitted into
the Kingdom of God, established upon earth, and if it
be not their own fault, will as certainly attain to that
which is in heaven."

A little further on he says : — " This I would desire all
here present to take special notice of, that you may not be
deceived by a sort of people risen up among us, who being
led, as they pretend, by the light within them, are fallen
into such horrid darkness, and damnable heresies, that
they have quite laid a-ide the Sacrament of Baptism, and
affirm, in flat contradiction to our Saviour's words, that
they may be saved without it. I pray God to open their
eyes, that they may not g > blindfold into eternal damna-
tion. And I advise you all, as you desire not to apostatize
from the Christian religion, and as you tender your eter-
nal salvation, take heed that you be never seduced by
them, under any pretence whatsoever ; but rather, if you
be acquainted with any of them, do what you can to turn
them from darkness to light, from the power of Satan unto
God again ; that they may obtain forgiveness of their
sins, and inheritance among them who are sanctified
by faith in Him who saith, ' Except a man be born of
water,' &c.

" Not only a man, in contradiction to a child, or a
woman, but as it is in the original, Idv pn m, except any
one, any human creature whatsoever, man, woman, or child,
' except he be born of water," &c. ... So that our Lord is
so far from excluding children from baptism, that He
plainly includes them, speaking in such general terms,
on purpose that we may know that no sort of people, old
or young, can ever be saved without it. And so He doth
too, where He commands, as was observed before, that

352 BEVEPJDGR

'All nations should be made disciples by being baptized
in the name of,' . . . . For, under all nations, children
must needs be comprehended, which make a great, if not
the greatest part of all nations. And although these
general expressions be sufficient to demonstrate the neces-
sity of infant baptism, yet foreseeing that ignorant and
unlearned people would be apt to wrest the Scriptures
to their own destruction, He elsewhere commands chil-
dren particularly to be brought unto Him, saying, ' Suffer
the little children,' &c. (Mark, x. 14.) But if the kingdom
of God consist of children, as well as other people, they
must of necessity be baptized, or born of water and the
Spirit ; for otherwise, He Himself saith, * They cannot
enter into the kingdom.'

" Hence it is, that we find the apostles baptizing whole
families, children, if any, as well as others : and the whole
Catholic Church, in all places and ages ever since, hath
constantly admitted the children of believing parents into
the Church, by baptizing them according to the institution
and command of our Saviour ; none ever making any
question of it, but all Christians, all the world over,
taking it for granted that it ought to be done, till of late
years."

On the third of January, 1660 — 1, he was ordained
deacon by bishop Sanderson, and, on the thirty-first
of the same month, was admitted into priest's orders.
About the same time Dr Gilbert Sheldon, then bishop of
London, collated him to the vicarage of Ealing, in the
county of Middlesex.

From his sermon " On Christ's presence with His
Ministers," we gather his sentiments on the apostolical
succession, and the sacred office to which he was now
admitted.

" In the first place I observe, how much we are all
bound to acknowledge the goodness, to praise, magnify,
and adore the Name of the Most High God, in that we
were born and bred, and still live in a church, wherein the
apostolical line hath, through all ages, been preserved

BEVERIDGE. $$$

entire ; there having been a constant succession of such
bishops in it, as were truly and properly successors to the
apostles, by virtue of that apostolical imposition of hands,
which being begun by the apostles, hath been continued
from one to another, ever since their time, down to ours.
By which means the same Spirit which was breathed by our
Lord into his apostles is, together with their office, trans-
mitted to their lawful successors, the pastors and governors
of our church at this time ; and acts, moves, and assists
at the administration of the several parts of the apostolical
office in our days, as much as ever. From whence it
follows, that the means of grace which we now enjoy are
in themselves as powerful and effectual as they were in
the apostles' days, &c

"And this, I verily believe, is the great reason why the
devil has such a great spite at our church, still stirring
up adversaries of all sorts against it, — papists on the one
hand, and sectaries on the other, and all, if possible, to
destroy it ; even because the Spirit which is ministered in
it, is so contrary to his nature, and so destructive of his
kingdom, that he can never expect to domineer and
tyrannize over the people of the land, so long as such
a church is settled among them, and they continue
firm to it. . . .

" As for schism, they certainly hazard their salvation at
a strange rate, who separate themselves from such a
church as ours is, wherein the apostolical succession, the
root of all Christian communion, hath been so entirely
preserved, and the word and sacraments are so effectually
administered ; and all to go into such assemblies and
meetings, as can have no pretence to the great promise in
my text. (Matt, xxviii. 20.) For it is manifest, that this
promise was made only to the apostles and their succes-
sors to the end of the world. Whereas, in the private
meetings, where their teachers have no apostolical or
episcopal imposition of hands, they have no ground to
succeed the apostles, nor by consequence any right to the
2g2

354 BEVERIDGE.

Spirit which our Lord hath ; without which, although
they preach their hearts out, I do not see what spiritual
advantage can accrue to their hearers by it," &c

At Ealing he remained for twelve years, and here he
was able to pursue his studies while discharging with dili-
gence his parochial duties. The result of his studies was
apparent in 1669, in the appearance of his Institutionum
Chronologicarum libri duo, una cum totidem Arithmetices
Chronological Libellis. Although it was regarded by the
author only as an elementary work, it has been made use
of by subsequent chronologers, and was so well received
at the time of its publication, that new editions were
required in 1705, and in 1721. His great work ap-
peared in 1672, entitled Zuvo&xov, sive Pandectse Canonum
SS. Apostolorum et Conciliorum ab Ecclesia Graeca recep-
torum ; nee non Canonicarum SS. Patrum Epistolarum ;
una cum Schohis Antiquorum singulis eorum annexis,
et Scriptis aliis hue spectantibus ; quorum plurima e
Bibliothecae Bodleianse, aliarumque MSS. Codicibus nunc
primum edita: reliqua cum iisdem MSS. summa Fide et
Diligentia collata. Totum Opus, in duos Tomos divisum,
Gulielmus Beveregius, Ecclesise Anglican® Presbyter,
recensuit, Prolegomenis et Annotationibus auxit, 2 vols,
folio.

The first volume contains the canons that have been
assigned to the apostles, those of the two Nicene councils,
of four Constantinopolitan councils, and of other Asiatic
councils, together with the arguments and Arabic para-
phrase of Joseph, surnamed the Egyptian, on the canons
of the first four general councils ; the whole being prefaced
by the learned editor's Prolegomena The second volume
contains the canons of Dionysius and Peter, both of
Alexandria; various monuments of oriental episcopacy;
the Syntagma, or alphabetical index, compiled by Michael
Blastaris ; the acts of the synod, which restored Photius
to the patriarchate of Constantinople, and those of the
eighth council held there. The work has Greek in one

BEVERIDGE. 355

column, and a Latin translation in the other, and com-
prises the Scholia of learned orientals on most of the
canons, together with copious notes by Beveridge himself.

The "Pandectae Canonum," as Mr Home observes, con-
tinues to hold a distinguished place in public libraries, as
a book of permanent authority and reference in all matters
of controversy relative to the doctrines or discipline of the
Christian Church.

The publication of this great work appears to have
excited considerable attention upon the Continent, where
some of his opinions, relative to the date of the canons
attributed to the apostles, were attacked in an anonymous
tract, now known to have been written by Matthieu de
Larroque, a minister of the French reformed church at
Rouen; who, in 1674, published ' Observationes in Igna-
tianas Pearsonii Vindicis, et in Adnotationes Beveridgii
in Canones Apostolorum.' Rothomagi, 8vo. This called
forth a reply from Dr Beveridge, intituled, ' Codex
Canonum Ecclesiaa Primitives Vindicatus et Illustratue.
Londini, 1697,' in 4to.

In his notes on these canons, he had fixed their date
to the end of the second, or beginning of the third
century ; taking a middle course between the opinion of
Francesco Turriano, who affirmed that they were all made
by the apostles at the council of Jerusalem, and that of
Jean Daille, an eminent minister of the French reformed
church at Paris, who maintained they were the production
of some anonymous writer, who forged these pretended
apostolical canons before the end of the fifth century.
The strictures of Beveridge on the hypothesis of Daille
called forth the observations of Larroque, to whom the
' Codex Canonum Primitivae Ecclesiae Vindicatus' is de-
signed as a reply. The bishop has here re- asserted and
vindicated the date which he had assigned to these
canons, with much learning and ingenuity. The judg-
ment, however, of the learned is not in unison with his
Vindication. These pseudepigraphal canons are unques-
tionably of great antiquity: but although they bear the

356 BEVERIDGE.

name of the apostles of the Lord Jesus Christ, they are
destitute of the external evidence necessary to support that
claim, not having been quoted by any Christian writer of
the first three centuries.

From the Codex Canonum Eccles. Prim. Vindicatus ac
illustratus we may gather Beveridge's church principles.
" Seeing," he says " that no one doubts but that more
confidence is to be placed in the whole body than in indi-
vidual Christians, and more in the universal Church than
in any particular churches whatsoever : seeing also that
there are very many points in which the universal Church,
during many ages after the apostles, agreed : seeing, finally,
that this consent of the universal Church is the surest in-
terpretation of holy Scripture on those points on which it
may be had : it hence most clearly follows, of what and
how" great use the andent fathers, and other writers of all
ages of the Church, must be, and how necessary to be con-
sulted by them, who, in the prosecution of ecclesiastical
controversies, have at heart either their own salvation, or
the peace of the Church. For, were there no commentaries
of the ancient church, no acts of councils, no monuments
of ecclesiastical history, extant at this day, in how great
darkness should we be involved respecting our very reli-
gion itself? How easy would it be for any subtle heretic,
or even for any the most flagitious impostor, under the
mask of piety, to deceive the generality, and to lead them
into the most pernicious errors of every description ?
Who could then convict the church of Rome, or any other,
even the most corrupt communion, of fault or error, in
those particulars which are not expressly prohibited in
holy Scripture ? For whence could it be proved, whether
those things which are in use in that church had, or had
not, been handed down from the very apostles, and ap-
proved by the consent of the universal Church ? Finally,
how many and how great disadvantages of every kind
would arise hence ? But there is no reason that we should
occupy our time in the enumeration of these things, seeing
that amidst so many and so great confusions of empires,

BEVERIDGE. 357

convulsions of particular churches, and perturbation of all
human affairs, it hath been so ordered by the most wise
and merciful providence of Almighty G od, that from the
veiy times of the apostles even unto these our own times,
there is no age whose ecclesiastical memorials are not
preserved to us. From which memorials accordingly we
are enabled to conceive a perfect idea of the universal
Church, and to feel assured and certain, what has through
all ages been admitted and what rejected : what rites and
doctrines have prevailed, what heresies and schisms have
been disapproved and condemned. Finally, from these
and these alone we may see, on what points of doctrine
and discipline, agreement hath ever prevailed among all
churches, and on what again, controversy hath existed
between them, and consequently what is more, and what
less, necessary to be believed and observed. For whatever
is to be said of other things, those things at any rate in
which all churches every where have agreed, cannot but
be most certain, and necessary, even at this very time, to
be retained of all."

His view of our reformation also is admirable, on which
subject he remarks, " When this our English church,
through long communion with the Roman church, had
contracted like stains with her, from which it was neces-
sary that it should be cleansed, they who took that excel-
lent and very necessary work in hand, fearing that they,
like others, might rush from one extreme to the other,
removed indeed those things, as well doctrines as ceremo-
nies, which the Roman church had newly and insensibly
superinduced, and, as was fit, abrogated them utterly.
Yet notwithstanding, whatsoever things had been, at all
times, believed and observed, by all churches, in all places,
those things they most religiously took care not so to
abolish with them. For they well knew, that all par-
ticular churches are to be formed on the model of the
universal Church, according to that general and received
rule in ethics, ' every part which agreeth not with its
whole is therein base.' Hence therefore these first re-

358 BEVERIDGE.

formers of this particular church directed the whole line
of that reformation, which they undertook, according to
the rule of the whole or universal Church, casting away
those things only which had been either unheard of, or
rejected by, the universal Church, but most religiously
retaining those which they saw, on the other side, corro-
borated by the consent of the universal Church. Whence
it hath been brought to pass, that although we have not
communion with the Roman, nor with certain other par-
ticular Churches, as at this day constituted, yet have we
abiding communion with the universal and Catholic
Church, of which evidently ours, as by the aid of God first
constituted, and by his pity still preserved, is the perfect
image and representation.

" But, that we digress no further from our proposed
object, when we are speaking of the universal Church, and
its agreement, without any doubt, regard is to be had
especially to the primitive church : inasmuch as, although
it be only a part of the whole, yet is it universally agreed
that it was the more pure and genuine part. For the
same hath happened to the Church, which hath happened
to each several commonwealth, namely, that, ancient
customs passing by degrees into disuse, new institutions
are devised by the wanton imaginations of men's minds,
which very fault is above all other to be eschewed in
religion. For it is agreed among all Christians, that the
Apostolic Church as constituted by the apostles of our
Lord in person, under the guidance of divine inspiration,
and by them whilst yet living administered, was of all
churches the purest and most perfect. Furthermore
nothing seems more at variance with the common faith of
Christians than that the doctrine or discipline instituted
by the apostles, should have been corrupted or any way
changed by their immediate successors. For all confess,
that the apostles were most faithful men, and of conse-
quence willed to ordain none as their successors, except
those whose faith and integrity were fully approved by
themselves . personally. Therefore the first successors of

BEVERIDGE. 359

the apostles doubtless kept inviolate and uncorrupted the
Church, whose government had been entrusted to them ;
and in like manner handed it down to their own successors,
and these again to others, and so on ; insomuch that there
can exist no doubt, but that at least during two or three
ages from the apostles the Church flourished in her primi-
tive vigour, and, so to say, in her virgin estate, that is, in
the same condition in which she had been left by the
apostles themselves ; except that from time to time new
heresies burst forth even in those days, by which the
Church was indeed harassed, but in no way corrupted ;
clearly no more than the church, strictly apostolic, was
perverted by those errors, which arose whilst the apostles
were yet living. For they had scarcely time to rise up,
before they were rejected by the Catholic Church. Which
things therefore notwithstanding, the universal Church
which followed ever held that primitive church to be most
pure, and, in refuting all heresies which afterwards arose,
appealed to her as the rule of other churches. For if
any one endeavoured to bring any thing new into the
doctrine or discipline of the Church, those fathers who
opposed themselves to him, whether individually or
assembled together in a body, sought their arguments, as
out of the holy Scriptures, so also out of the doctrines and
traditions of the church of the first ages. For this is ob-
servable in nearly all acts of councils, and commentaries
of individual fathers, wherever, that is, ecclesiastical con-
troversies are discussed. And indeed nothing still is
more rational, nothing certainly more desirable, than
that all particular churches at this day wherever consti-
tuted, were reformed after the model of the primitive
church. For this measure would immediately cast forth
whatever corruptions have crept in during later ages, and
would restore to their ancient original all things which
are required for the true constitution of a Christian
church."

In November, 1672, Beveridge was instituted to the
rectory of St Peter's, Cornhill, London, and resigned the

360 BEVEKIDGE.

vicarage of Ealing. In December, the year following, he
was collated by bishop Henchman to the prebend of
Chiswick, in St Paul's cathedral: in 1679 he took his DD
degree; and in November, 1681, he was made archdeacon
of Colchester, being collated thereto by bishop Compton.

His conscientious mind, upon his appointment to so
important a cure as that of St Peter's, withdrew from
those learned labours which had hitherto been his delight,
and he devoted himself exclusively, with primitive zeal
and piety, to the duties of the pastoral office. His labours
were incessant : he established weekly communions and
daily service. It is not surprising that he should appoint
weekly communions, as, in his "Private Thoughts," he
thus states his faith with regard to the Holy Eucharist :
" As Baptism thus comes in the place of the Jew's Cir-
cumcision, so doth our Lord's Supper answer to their
Passover. Their Paschal Lamb represented our Saviour
Christ, and the sacrificing of it, the shedding of His
Blood upon the cross ; and as the passover was the memo-
rial of the Israelites' redemption from Egypt's bondage,
(Ex. xii. 14.) so is the Lord's Supper the memorial of our
redemption from the slavery of sin, and assertion into
Christian liberty; or, rather, it is a solemn and lively
representation of the death of Christ, and offering it again
to God, as an atonement for sin, and reconciliation to His
favour.

" So that I believe this Sacrament of the Lord's Supper,
under the gospel, succeeds to the right of sacrificing under
the law, and is properly called the Christian Sacrifice, as
representing the Sacrifice of Christ upon the cross."

In another place, after referring to the sacrifices and
offerings of the Jews, he remarks, " there were many such
ways, whereby the people of God, in those days, were
constantly put in mind of what the Saviour of the world
was to do, and suffer for them. All which are now laid
aside, and only this one Sacrament of His last supper,
instituted by Himself, in the room of them. This is now
our Christian shewbread, whereby we ' shew the Lord's

BEVERIDGE. 361

death till He come.' This is our burnt-offering, our sin-
offering, our trespass-offering, our thank-offering, our meat-
offering, our drink-offering, and all the offerings required
of us, whereby to commemorate our blessed Saviour, and
what He hath done for us ; and, therefore, as the Jews
were punctual and constant in observing all things pre-
scribed to them, for the same end we certainly ought to
do this as often as we can : this one thing, which answers
the end of all their offerings, and yet hath neither the
trouble, nor the charges, nor the difficulty of any one of
them."

His exhortations to his people to attend daily service
were very urgent. He observes in his sermon " On the
Advantage of Public Prayer," that " the more pleasing
any duty is to God, the more profitable it is to those who
do it. And therefore He having so often, both by word
and deed, manifested Himself well-pleased with the public
or common service which His people perform to Him, we
cannot doubt but they always receive proportionable ad-
vantage from it. The Jews call stated public prayers
Stations; and have a saying among them, * That without
such stations the world could not stand.' Be sure no
people have any ground to expect public peace and tran-
quillity, without praising and praying publicly unto Him,
who alone can give it. But if all the people (suppose of
this nation) should every day with one heart and mouth
join together in our common supplications to Almighty
God, how happy should we then be ? how free from dan-
ger ? how safe and secure under His protection ? This is
the argument which Christ Himself useth, why 'Men
ought always to pray, and not to faint ;' in the parable of
the unjust judge, who was at last prevailed with to grant
a widow's request, merely by her importunity in asking it.
' And shall not God,' saith He, ' avenge His own elect,
which cry day and night unto Him, though He bear long
with them? I tell you that He will avenge them speedily.'
But then He adds, 'Nevertheless, when the Son of Man

VOL. II 2 h

362 BEVERIDGE.

coineth, shall He find faith on the earth ?' (Luke, xvii.
7, 8.) As if He had said, God will most certainly avenge
and protect those who cry day and night, morning and
evening, to Him. But men will not believe this ; and that
is the reason why there are so few who believe that He
will hear their prayers, according to His promise. But
blessed be God, though they be but few, there are some,
who really believe God's Word, and accordingly pray
every morning and evening, not only for themselves, but
for the country where they live, for all their governors
both in church and state, and for all sorts and conditions
of men among us. To these the whole kingdom is be-
holden for its support and preservation. If they should
once fail, I know not what would become of us. But so
long as there are pious and devout persons crying day and
night to God for aid and defence against our enemies, we
need not fear any hurt they can ever do us; at least
according to God's ordinary course of dealing in the
world."

It is thus that the character of Beveridge as a parish
priest is described by a contemporary : " How powerful
and instructive was he in all his discourses from the
pulpit ! How warm and affectionate in his private exhor-
tations ! How orthodox in his doctrine ! How regular
and uniform in the public worship of the church ! In a
word, so zealous was he, and heavenly-minded, in all the
spiritual exercises of his parochial function, and his
labours were so remarkably crowned with blessing and
success, that, as he himself was justly styled the great
reviver and restorer of primitive piety, so his parish was
deservedly proposed as the best model and pattern for its
neighbours to copy after."

Equally diligent he was as an archdeacon, visiting
every parish in his archdeaconry. In the year 1684 he
succeeded Dr Peter Du Moulin in a stall in Canterbury
cathedral ; and some time between the following year and
1688, he became associated with Dr Horneck in directing
the religious societies which had begun to be formed in

BEVERIDGE. :>03

London, and which soon extended to different parts of the
country. They were intended at first to stop the progress
of popery by piety and prayer, although they were looked
upon with jealousy by some among the ultra-protestants.
Their object may be gathered from the principles upon
which each society was conducted. The members of this
society shall heartily endeavour, through God's grace,

1. To be just in all their dealings, even to an exem-
plary strictness.

2. To pray many times every day; remembering our
continual dependence upon God, both for spiritual and
temporal things.

3. To partake of the Lord's Supper at least once a
month, if not prevented by a reasonable impediment.

4. To practise the profoundest meekness and humility.

5. To watch against censuring others.

6. To accustom themselves to holy thoughts in all
places.

7. To be helpful one to another.

8. To exercise tenderness, patience, and compassion,
towards all men.

9. To make reflections on themselves when they read
the Holy Bible, or other good books, and when they hear
sermons.

10. To shun all foreseen occasions of evil ; as evil
company, known temptations, &c.

11. To think often on the different estates of the glori-
fied and the damned in the unchangeable eternity to
which we are hastening.

12. To examine themselves every night, what good or
evil they have done in the day past.

13. To keep a private fast once a month (especially
near their approach to the Lord's table), if at their own
disposal; or to fast from some meals when they may
conveniently.

14. To mortify the flesh, with its affections and lusts.

15. To advance in heavenly-mindedness, and in all
grace,

864 BEVERIDGE.

16. To shun spiritual pride, and the effects of it, as
railing, anger, peevishness, and impatience of contradic-
tion, and the like.

17. To pray for the whole society in their private
prayers.

18. To read pious books often for their edification, but
especially the Holy Bible : and herein particularly,

Matt. v. vi. vii. Luke, xv. xvi. Rorn. xii. xiii. Eph. v.
vi. 1 Thess. v. Rev. i. ii. iii. xxi. xxii.

And in the Old Testament, Lev. xxvi. Deut. xxviii.
Isa. liii. Ezek. xxxvi.

19. To be continually mindful of the great obligation
of this special profession of religion ; and to walk so cir-
cumspectly, that none may be offended or discouraged
from it by what they may see in them ; nor occasion given
to any to speak reproachfully of it.

20. To shun all manner of affectation and moroseness ;
and be of a civil and obliging deportment to all men.

Thus the object of these societies, in the direction of
which Dr Beveridge held so conspicuous a place, was, first
and principally, to promote edification and personal piety
in their several members, for which purpose their rules
appear to have been well calculated. They did not, how-
ever, confine themselves to this single design, but endea-
voured to promote piety in others in various ways. For
this purpose they procured sermons to be preached every
Sunday evening in many of the largest churches in the
city, either by way of preparation for the Lord's Supper,
or to engage communicants to a suitable holiness of life
after partaking of that sacrament, which was also adminis-
tered in many churches every Sunday. They further
extended their charity to deserving objects in all parts of
London and its suburbs ; and by the pecuniary collections
which they procured to be made, many clergymen were
maintained to read prayers in so many places, and at so
many different hours, that devout persons might have that
comfort at every hour of the day. Among other benefits
which resulted from these religious associations, was the

BEVERIDGE. 365

institution of societies for reformation of manners, and
the establishment of the two venerable societies for Pro-
moting Christian Knowledge at home as well as abroad,
and for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts ; both of
which subsist to this day with increasing activity and
usefulness.

To the revolution of 1688 Dr Beveridge gave his
adhesion. The question of submitting to the government
de facto was a difficult one, and while some of the most
orthodox of our divines declined the oath of allegiance
to one whom they regarded as a usurper, carrying with
them the reputation of devotedness to their spiritual duties
and indifference to their secular interests ; others, like
Dr Beveridge, as devoted and as disinterested, took a
different view of their duty, and to escape the miseries of
popery, acquiesced in the revolution when it had been
effected. The latter underwent trials as well as the non-
jurors : to generous minds it is grievous to have sordid
motives attributed to them to account for their conduct,
and to affectionate hearts the disruption of old friendships,
occasioned by differences of opinion, is peculiarly painful.
The temporary association with uncongenial spirits, also,
must have been anything but agreeable ; and there are few
who could have been less congenial to Dr Beveridge than
such men as Tillotson and Burnet, with whom, up to a
certain point, he was now compelled to act. The minds
of men had been agitated by the political revolution,
and their principles were shaken ; Tillotson and Burnet,
therefore, thought this a fitting opportunity to revolu-
tionize the Church, by the sacrifice of catholic practice,
and the adoption of ultra-protestant principles, making
the breach wider between the church of England and
the church of Rome, and vainly hoping to conciliate
the multitudinous sects of ultra-protestants. The desire
was to retreat, as far as possible, from all positive,
objective, and dogmatic theology, and to form a politic
union between parties who could not be united by a bond
2 2h

366 BEVERIDGE.

of love, but might be united by a bond of common hatred,
— the hatred of popery. It was attempted at first to carry
this point by act of parliament ; but the church of England
was not reduced as yet to its present state of degradation,
nor would the majority of her bishops have consented to
parliamentary legislation on that point. The non-jurors
were strong in principle, and they would have been so
increased in point of numbers, had parliament attempted
to interfere with the internal arrangements of the Church,
that the impolicy of such a proceeding would have been
apparent, even if better principles had not prevailed in
parliament itself. Parliament declined to interfere until
convocation had been consulted : both houses presented
an address to the king, praying, that " according to the
ancient practice and usage of this kingdom in time of
parliament, his majesty would be graciously pleased to
issue forth his writs, as soon as conveniently might be,
for calling a convocation of this kingdom, to be advised
with in ecclesiastical matters." A sentiment of this
nature, entertained so cordially by the house of commons,
from which it emanated, was of course responded to by
the clergy, and Tillotson yielded to the necessity of the
case. To make all arrangements requisite for the convo-
cation, a commission was issued on the 13th of September,
1689, to ten bishops and twenty other divines, requiring
" them to prepare such alterations of the liturgy and
canons, and such proposals for the reformation of the
ecclesiastical courts, and to consider such other matters as
might most conduce to the good order and edification and
unity of the church of England." The name of Beveridge
appeared in the commission. By those who were the
authors of the movement it was proposed that the follow-
ing changes should be made :

Chanting to be discontinued.

Certain select psalms to be read on Sundays ; but the
daily course not to be altered.

The omission of the apocryphal lessons, and of some
from the Old Testament.

BEVERIDGE. 367

A rubric on the usefulness of the sign of the cross in
baptism. The use of it to be omitted altogether when
desired.

The sacramental elements to be administered in pews,
to those who might object to kneeling.

A rubric declaring that Lent fasts consisted in extra-
ordinary acts of devotion, not in distinctions of meats ;
and another to explain the meaning of the Ember
weeks.

The rubric enjoining the daily reading or hearing of
common prayer on the clergy to be changed into an
exhortation.

The Absolution to be read by deacons ; the word
minister being substituted for priest; and the words
" remission of sins" omitted as not very intelligible.

The Gloria Patri not to be repeated at the end of
every psalm.

In the Te Deum, the words only begotten Son, substi-
tuted for Thine honourable, true, and only Son.

The 138th psalm to be substituted for the Benedicite ;
and other psalms for the Benedictus and Nunc Dimittis.

The versicles after the Lord's Prayer to be read
kneeling ; and after the words " Give peace, &c," an
answer promissory, on the part of the people, of keeping
God's law: the old response being supposed by the
commissioners to savour of too strong a view of predes-
tination.

All titles of the king and queen to be omitted, and
the word " Sovereign" only used.

In the prayer for the king, the clause, " Grant that
he may vanquish, &c," changed into, " Prosper all his
righteous undertakings against Thy enemies."

The words, " who worketh great marvels," changed
into, " who alone art the author of all good gifts ;" and
the words, " the holy Spirit of Thy grace," substituted
for " the healthful Spirit of Thy grace." The reason
assigned for the latter was this, that the word healthful
was obsolete.

368 BEVERIDGE.

The prayer, " 0 God, whose nature and property,"
to be omitted, as full of strange and impertinent ex-
pressions.

The collects to be revised by the bishop of Chichester.

If a minister refused the surplice, and the people
desired it, the bishop to be at liberty to appoint another,
providing the living would bear it.

Sponsors to be disused, and children to be presented
in the name of their parents, if desired.

A rubric to declare, that the curses in the Athanasian
Creed are confined to those who deny the substance of
the Christian religion.

Certain alterations to be made in the Litany, the Com-
munion Service, and the Canons.

Many other verbal alterations were suggested, and
several things were left to the care of Tenison.

Such were the alterations proposed, and it is surpris-
ing, as well as satisfactory, to find that much would now
be freely tolerated even by ultra-protestants, which the
liberal churchmen of the revolution were prepared to
concede. The convocation assembled, and Dr Beveridge
was appointed to preach the Concio ad elerum ; when he
hesitated not to take the opportunity of declaring against
any concessions or alterations. His whole discourse,
grounded on the text, 1 Cor. xi. 16, " If any man seem
to be contentious, we have no such custom, neither the
churches of God," is an able argument to this effect.

The convocation met in the month of December,
and the business that first engaged their attention, the
appointment of a prolocutor in the lower house, fur-
nished a favourable opportunity for trying the strength
of the two contending parties, and bringing all their
differences, whether ecclesiastical or civil, to an issue.
The court party proposed Dr Tillotson as their candidate.
The candidate of the opposite party was Dr Jane, dean of
Gloucester, and regius professor of divinity at Oxford,
who was known to be a divine of great reading and
resolution. He was elected by a large majority; and when

•BEVERIDGE. 369

the bishops sent down an address acknowledging the
protection his majesty had afforded to religion in general,
and especially to their own established form of it, but so
expressed as to include the church of England under the
general title of protestant churches, the lower house re-
quired the expression to be altered, on the avowed
principle that they disowned all communion with foreign
protestants. The case was too manifest to be misunder-
stood : and the king readily adopted the only alternative
remaining to him, of discontinuing the session.

The independent conduct of Dr Beveridge did not at
once alienate from him the revolutionary court. Among
the more eminent of the clergy, most of those who held
sound church principles had been driven from their
posts, and the administration of the church was now for
the most part in the hands of men prepared for political
purposes to sacrifice every church principle. Dr Beveridge,
therefore, was not to be overlooked by the revolutionary
government : an attempt was still made to bribe him to
the Dutch interest. In 1690 he was nominated chaplain
to the revolutionary royal family, and in 1691 he was
offered the bishopric of Bath and Wells. It was a diffi-
cult point to settle whether he could conscientiously accept
the offer : he was in a novel position in which he had no
precedents to guide him. He had consented to the revo-
lution, as several other sound churchmen did, but the see
of Bath and Wells was not vacant. The great and good
Dr Ken had not been canonically deprived, neither had
he tendered his resignation. Could he be considered as
virtually resigning the bishopric by not taking the oaths,
as king James II. was regarded as having virtually abdi-
cated the throne when he fled the kingdom ? It may be
easy, in the opinion of some, to answer the question now,
but it was very different to those who were in the midst
of the conflict. Beveridge consulted archbishop Sancroft,
but Sancroft, angry with him for having consented to the
revolution, gave him a sarcastic rather than a satisfactory

370 BEVERIDGE.

answer ; but Dr Beveridge, after weighing all the circum-
stances of the case, at the end of three weeks refused to
accept a bishopric which was not canonically vacant. He
acted nobly. He did not violate his conscience to please
those with whom he was politically acting, and who must
have plied him with arguments to justify such conduct as
they themselves adopted : the non-jurors only despised
him for not going further, and he met with no sympathy
from them. But he pursued his own course ; while he
submitted to the government, he would not sanction an
unjust and uncanonical proceeding, nor would he usurp
the office or eat the bread of another. William and his
government were now exasperated against him, and deter-
mined that he should receive no other preferment from
them. He continued for thirteen years in his honourable
office of parish priest, complacent, doubtless, in the happy
thought that he had sacrificed wealth and high station to
sound church principles, and though he was misunder-
stood by the two extremes, the integrity of his heart was
known to the God whom he loved and served. He did
not relax in his laborious duties, but discharged them
with an assiduity best evinced by the general success
which attended his ministry.

In 1701 — 2, Dr Beveridge was proposed as prolocutor
of the lower house of convocation by the whigs, who shewed
their wisdom in selecting a man so moderate in his poli-
tical, while he was so decided in his church, principles ;
but the intrigues of Atterbury procured the election of Dr
Woodward, dean of Sarum. Beveridge was advanced in
years before he had another offer of a bishopric. He was
consecrated on the 6th of July, 1704, having been elected
to the see of St Asaph. With his usual conscientious
diligence he commenced his new duties, and shewed that
age had not weakened his faculties. A parish priest him-
self, he knew how to sympathize with parish priests, and
immediately addressed himself, as chief pastor, to a subject
bearing upon the welfare equally of the clergy and laity.

BEVERIDGE. 37]

He addressed a letter to his clergy, in which he recom-
mended to them the duty of catechising ; and in order to
enable them to do this the more effectually, he, in the
course of the same year, sent them a plain and easy expla-
nation of the catechism of the church of England. How
readily would the clergy give heed to the bishop who could
appeal to his own practice, to prove the practical wisdom
of his advice ; how gratefully would they accept the assist-
ance which he offered to enable the least experience to
act upon his suggestion. The introductory paragraph of
his address to his clergy affords a pleasing evidence of the
deep view which bishop Beveridge took of his high and
responsible office.

" Brethren, beloved in the Lord,

As God our Saviour, the head of the whole Church,
which He hath purchased with His blood, hath been
pleased to call me, the unworthiest of His servants, to
take care of that part of it which He hath planted in the
diocese to which you belong ; so I verily believe and
expect that He will ere long call me to give Him an account
how I have discharged the trust, and performed the duty,
which He hath laid upon me. The consideration whereof
hath made me very solicitous and thoughtful what to do,
and how I may behave myself in this place and station,
so that I may appear before Him at that day with joy,
and not with shame and grief."

In the subsequent part of this address he earnestly and
affectionately presses the duty of frequent and public
catechising ; and in conclusion, tells his clergy, that
11 having spent some thoughts about catechising in general,
so as to attain the end of it in the way that is here pro-
posed ; and having accordingly drawn up a short explica-
tion of the catechism which our Church hath set forth,
he thought good to present them with it, as a testimony
of his readiness to contribute what he can towards the
laying the foundation in some, as well as to the building
up others, of the diocese in our most holy faith."

372 BEVERIDGE.

Nor did the good bishop forget his duties as a peer of
the realm : he attended in the house of lords as often as
the duties of his bishopric would permit him ; on every
occasion evincing himself a steady defender of the rights
and privileges of the Church. He foresaw the danger
which threatened true religion, by the union of England
and Scotland, and he steadily opposed a measure by which
the interests of the Church were sacrificed to political
expediency, and a permanency given to the presbyterian
establishment. He appeared in the house of lords for the
last time on the 20th of January, 1707-8, and died on
the following 5th of March.

Among the charitable bequests of this Anglican saint,
he left £20 a year to the curate of Mount Sorrel, and the
vicarage of Barrow, on condition that prayers should be
offered every day morning and evening in the chapel and
parish church respectively ; together with the sum of forty
shillings to be divided equally at Christmas-eve among
such poor housekeepers of Barrow, as the minister and
churchwardens should agree, regard being especially had
to those u'ho had most constantly attended the daily prayers
and the sacrament of the Lord's Supper the preceding year.
We presume that this bequest is enjoyed, and these duties
performed, at the present time. He left his library in
trust to his wife's nephew, Dr William Stanley, to be
placed in the cathedral church of St Paul, as the founda-
tion of a library for the benefit of the clergy of the city of
London. To the society for Propagating the Gospel in
Foreign Parts he gave the sum of £100. He had been
married, but of his wife nothing is known, except that she
died before him without issue.

With the exception of a few occasional sermons,
and the catechism explained, bishop Beveridge never
published any English works. But large quantities of
his manuscripts were printed by his executor after his
death. These posthumous works consist of sermons,
Thesaurus Theologicus, Private Thoughts, Treatises on
the Necessity and Advantages of Public Prayer, and of

BEVERIDGE. 373

Frequent Communion ; a defence of Sternhold and Hop-
kin's version of the Book of Psalms ; and an exposition
of the Thirty-nine Articles. All these, together with the
English works published by the bishop himself, were col-
lected by the Rev Thomas Hartwell Home, in 1 8-2-4, in
9 vols, 8vo, with a memoir of the author. They have
since been republished in the library of Anglo-Catholic
Theology. Considered as works never intended for pub-
lication, it is marvellous that their blemishes are so few.
There are, as we have observed,' in his works, occasional
tinges of those opinions which were rife in his younger
years, but his mind was too essentially practical to enter-
tain calvinistic notions ; and he was too entirely in earnest
in teaching positive truth, and providing real food for his
flock, to spend his time and waste his energies in the bare
contradiction of error. His labours earned for him the
title of " The Restorer and Recoverer of Primitive Piety,"
and doubtless are not lost among us. He speaks of the
church of England in high and glowing language, and
sought to " establish and make Jerusalem a praise in the
earth." He contemplated her as a true branch of the
Church catholic, and sought to bring out her primitive
and catholic character, by acting up to her acknowledged
rales, by supplying a constant round of daily services and
frequent communions, exercising a more vigorous disci-
pline, and awakening her members to a higher and holier
estimation of the 'ministration and ordinances of the
Church. He was accused by heretics of " making many
things necessary which Scripture speaks not one word of:"
and one of his calumniators observes, " that though the
bishop may have been far enough from popery, yet there
are some things in him which are agreeable to it."

Beveridge's Works with Home's Memoir. Preface to the
edition of the works in the Library of Anglo- Catholic
Theology. CardweWs Conferences.

Beverley, John of, in Latin, Johaxes Beveelactis,
vol. II. 2 I

374 BEVERLEY.

was born of a noble family among the Anglo-Saxons, at
Harpham, a small town in Northumberland. He was a pupil
of Theodore, archbishop of Canterbury, and it is said that
he himself became the instructor of the venerable Bede ;
but Mabillon thinks that the tutor of Bede was another
John of Beverley. He became first a monk, and then abbot,
of St Hilda. He soon rose in favour with Alfred, king
of Northumberland, who, in the year 685, gave him the
see of Hagustald or Hexham, and in 687, translated him
to that of York. In 704 this prelate founded a college
at Beverley, for secular priests, which was afterwards
endowed with very considerable immunities. Among
other privileges, it had that of asylum, or sanctuary, for
debtors, and persons suspected of capital crimes. Within
it stood a chair of stone with this inscription : " Hsec
sedes lapidea freedstool dicitur, i. e. Pacis Cathedra, ad
quam reus fugiendo perveniens omnimodam habet securi-
tatem." That is, " this stone seat, is called freedstool, i. e.
the chair of peace, to which what criminal soever flies has
full protection." After he had governed the see of York
thirty-four years, he divested himself of his episcopal cha-
racter, and retired to Beverley ; and four years after died
in the odour of sanctity, on the 7th of May, 7 31. About
the middle of the 16th century, says Mr Camden, (m the
year 1564,) upon opening a grave, they met with a vault
of squared free-stone, fifteen feet long, and two feet broad
at the head, but at the feet a foot ancfa half broad. With-
in it was a sheet of lead four feet long, and in that the
ashes, and six beads, (whereof three crumbled to dust
with a touch, and of three remaining, two were supposed
to be cornelian) with three great brass pins, and four large
iron nails. Upon the sheet lay a leaden plate, with a
Latin inscription to the following purpose. In the year
of our Lord 1188, this church was burnt in the month of
September, on the night following the feast of St Matthew
the apostle ; and in the year 1197, on the 6th of the Ides
of March, enquiry was made after the relics of St John

BEZA. 373

in this place, and these bones were found in the east part
of the sepulchre, and were buried here, and there also
dust mixed with mortar was found and buried. The day
of his death was appointed a festival by a synod held at
London, in 1416. Bede, and other writers, ascribe several
miracles to John of Beverley. Between three and four
hundred years after his death, his body was taken up by
Alfric, archbishop of York, and placed in a shrine richly
adorned with silver, gold, and precious stones. We are
told that William the Conqueror, when he ravaged
Northumberland with a numerous army, spared Beverley
alone, out of a religious veneration for St John of that
place. This prelate wrote some pieces, which are men-
tioned by Bale and Pitts. Pro Luca exponenda. Homi-
liae in Evangelia. Epistolae ad Hildam Abbatissam.
Epistolse ad Herebaldum, Andenum et Bertinum. — Bede.
Stubbs. Godwin. Camden.

Beza, Theodore de, was born at Vezelai, on the 24th
of June, 1519. He was sent to Paris at an early period
of life, and placed under the protection of an uncle who
was abbot of Froidmond. In 15*28 he was sent to Orleans
as a pupil to Melchior Wolmar, a distinguished scholar,
addicted to the reformation ; and when Wolmar, through
the interest of the queen of Navarre, was appointed Greek
professor at Bourges, he was followed thither by his pupil
Beza, who remained under his tuition for six years. In
1539 Beza took the degree of licentiate in law at Orleans ;
after which he returned to Paris. Under the guidance of
Wolmar, Beza's genius had been duly cultivated, and he
was distinguished in all the branches of elegant literature
and philosophy : but for some reason or other, his morals
were not attended to by the protestant professor, for at
Paris he became so wild and dissipated, that the name of
Beza was first known to fame as the author of some clever,
but very licentious, poems. Of this publication, he, of
course, repented deeply in after life, and an ungenerous
use was made of it by his opponents, who ought to have

376 BEZA.

remembered that at this very time he became practically
acquainted with the abuses existing in the Church, and of
the absolute need there was of a reformation. The licen-
tious young man was supported by the revenues of the
priory of Longjumeau, and of another benefice, without
being in orders, and, as intellectually he was inclined to
the reformation, most probably without intention of taking
them. The privilege of commendam was indeed, as
Mr Smedley observes, one of the most fruitful sources of
disorder at this time in the Church. In the earlier
Christian church, whenever a hostile irruption, a famine,
or any other public calamity, had so far diminished the
revenues of an episcopal see, or a religious house, as to
render them insufficient for the support of its ordinary
head, the metropolitan recommended the pastoral charge
to some neighbouring ecclesiastic, who accepted the addi-
tional burden gratuitously, till a more favourable season
permitted a re-establishment of the suspended dignity.
It is easy to perceive how this charitable custom, at first
so praiseworthy, degenerated in times less pure into
abuse. The chief revenues of the cardinals, whom the
duties of the sacred college detained in permanent abode
at Rome, were at first derived from prebends or other
benefices without cure of souls ; but ambition and avarice
gradually fostered the desire of exalted station and over-
flowing coffers, and by the perversion of commendams,
the richest sees were often accumulated in plurality upon
ecclesiastics by whom they could never be visited. The
convenient license thus assumed by the court of Rome
was not likely to be long unimitated by secular princes ;
and, in France, the wealthiest benefices were abundantly
showered down upon those, whose connexion with the
blood royal, or whose cabinet duties as ministers of state,
attached them to the court ; even women were admitted
as Eveques Laiz, and either sold their bishoprics or pro-
vided substitutes, or Custodines as they were termed, to
perform the clerical offices for the least possible stipend.
Similar abuses prevailed among the inferior clergy ; and

BEZA. 377

dispensations were so readily accorded, that, unless in
rare instances, the population at large lived either without
any pastors at all, or with curates unworthy of the name.
Religion, therefore, was sought for in vain, and its place
was usurped by ignorance and superstition.

Although Beza was thus enabled to expend the revenues
of the Church in riotous living, a considerable fortune, to
which he succeeded on the death of an elder brother, made
him independent of outward circumstances, and enabled
him without inconvenience to quit the Gallican church,
when he determined to act on a resolution most probably
formed in the school-room of Melchior Wolmar, and of
which he was reminded by a serious illness. He had long
promised his mistress, Claudia Denosse, with whom he had
lived for four years, to marry her ; but continually deferred
the fulfilment of his promise, as it would have vacated his
ecclesiastical preferments. His conscience having been
pricked in his illness, he perceived that he must resign
either his mistress or his livings : he generously deter-
mined on the latter course, and his mistress became his
wife. No impediment now existing, he determined to
declare himself on the side of the reformation, and having
been married at Geneva, on the 24th of October, 1548,
he went to Tubingen to visit his old tutor Melchior
Wolmar. He then settled as Greek professor at Lau-
sanne, where he remained for ten years, and amused his
leisure moments by the publication of a tragi-comedy,
Le Sacrifice d'Abraham.

He now came under the influence of the master mind
of Calvin, to whom he frequently paid homage during his
vacations, and who immediately availed himself of the
poetical powers of his disciple. The calvinistic system has
rejected all the ancient forms of religion, but to it is to
be traced the origin of congregational psalmody. This
important part of Genevan worship was supplied from
France. Clement Marot, says Mr Smedley, who held a
post about the royal household of France, had hitherto
•2 i2

878 BEZA.

dedicated his facile powers of elegant versification to sub-
jects always light, frequently licentious. Notwithstanding
the freedom both of his life and writings, he early em-
braced the reformed religion ; was imprisoned for heresy
during the captivity of Francis I in Madrid, and twice
afterwards compelled to take refuge in Geneva to escape
similar arrest. It was about the year 1540 that, renounc-
ing his former themes, he put forth a metrical French
version of the first fifty psalms ; and in the dedication to
Francis I, after drawing a parallel between that king
and David, which, it may be thought, must have cost him
no slight struggle with conscience to compose, he very
strikingly exhibited the grotesque mixture of ethnical
and Christian images, at that time present to his fancy.
God, he says, was the Apollo who tuned David's harp ; the
Holy Spirit was his Calliope ; his two-forked Parnassus
was the summit of the crystalline heaven ; and his Hippo-
crene was the deep fountain of grace. But, alas ! the vein
of Marot flowed quite diversely from that of the Hebrew
poet-king, and when he ceased to sing of earthly love he
ceased also to sing melodiously. The model which he
furnished was faithfully copied, not many years after-
wards, by the framers of our English psalmody ; and the
merits of the French bard may be accurately estimated,
when we add, that, in his devotional strains, Marot was the
Apollo, the Calliope, the Parnassus, and the Hippocrene
of Sternhold and Hopkins. Nevertheless, bald as was
Marot's version, it was the work of a popular court-poet;
it was in rhyme easily adapted to the vaudevilles and
ballad-tunes of the day ; and the translator, perhaps, was
not a little surprised to hear every chamber of the palace,
and every street in Paris, re-echoing with his sacred
songs, frequently accompanied by the fiddle, soon after
their publication. As no attempt was made to introduce
them into the ritual of the Church, the Sorbonne approved
their orthodoxy, and thus unwittingly gave additional
keenness to a weapon soon to be turned against them-
selves.

BEZA. 379

Calvin had banished the ancient ecclesiastical music,
and it is probable that he soon perceived the neces-
sity of a substitute, which might impart some warmth
to the general frigidity of his service. Marot's version
appeared most seasonably for his purpose. It was so
plain and prosaic that every peasant might easily un-
derstand, and commit it to memory. All resemllance
to the catholic antiphonal chant, which Calvin rejected
as superstitious and unedifying, was carefully avoided,
by setting the words to simple and monotonous tunes,
equally removed from science and from sweetness, but
in which every individual of the congregation might
take a part. Beza completed the task which Marot had
begun ; their joint psalms were appended to the cate-
chism of Geneva; passed from the lips of the gallants of
France to those of the herdsmen of Switzerland and the
citizens of Flanders ; became one of the distinguishing
characters of Calvinism ; and called down a severe inter-
dict from the faculty of Paris, by which they had not long
since been as formally sanctioned.

It is curious thus to trace congregational psalmody to
two poets who were distinguished less by their merit than
by the licentiousness of their profane poetry.

In 1556, Beza published his Latin version of the Xew
Testament, of which there were several subsequent
editions ; but the most celebrated of the works which
appeared in his name, during his residence at Lau-
sanne, was his tract De Haereticis a civili Magistratu
Puniendis, which was intended to vindicate the charac-
ter of his friend Calvin against Sebastian Castalio, who
had published a work soon after the cruel persecution
of Servetus, October 17, 1553, under the title of Quo
Jure, quove Fructu, Haeretiei gladio puniendi. Castalio
had in this work advanced some of the leading argu-
ments in favour of toleration, and Beza appears as the
advocate for persecution; indeed the right to persecute
seems never to have been renounced by the early re-
formers. According to Dupin, he attempts to prove these

380 BEZA.

three things : First, That heretics ought to be punished.
Secondly, That the punishment of them belongs to the
secular magistrate. Thirdly, That one may condemn them
to death. These maxims were attacked by several writers,
and the principle on which Beza supported them, is, that
a citizen ought to be an honest man, that those who oppose
the true religion are villains, and that therefore the magis-
trates ought to condemn them. He confesses one ought
not to punish those who offend more out of simplicity than
malice ; but maintains this general thesis, that heretics
are to be put to death, and particularly those who deny
the divinity of Jesus Christ, and the mystery of the Tri-
nity. He considers the arguments which are commonly
alleged for toleration, which with him amount to the
number of twelve. Those who maintained the contrary
affirmed, that the cognizance of religious affairs did not
belong to the magistrates. Beza confutes them, but this
is a problem which it was impossible for the ultra-
protestants to answer : — if you have a right of punishing
those men with death, whom you believe to be heretics,
why have not the catholic princes the same against you ?
you give them arms against yourselves, if Calvin and
Beza had been wise, they would not have authorized
maxims which in the end turned so much to their own
destruction.

In 1558, Beza was employed with Fazel and Jean Bude,
to solicit the protestant princes of Germany to use their
intercession with the king of France in favour of the
French protestants, and in this journey he became person-
ally acquainted with Melancthon. On his return he was
persuaded by Calvin to apply for his release from the senate
of Berne and to settle at Geneva ; with this request the
senate of Berne reluctantly complied, and he was present-
ed with his freedom as a citizen of Geneva in the month
of April, 1559; in the following month he was admitted
one of the pastors, and iu June he was appointed profes-
sor of theology and principal or rector of the academy
which had been recently founded there. The last situa-

BEZA. 381

tion was refused by Calvin, and at his suggestion it was
offered to Beza, by whose learning and genius he was
deeply impressed. Calvin had in Beza from this time
a devoted admirer, disciple, and friend.

We next find him employed in converting to Calvinism
Anthony king of Navarre, the father of Henry IV. The
prince of Conde and the king of Navarre himself applied to
the council of Geneva to spare him, and invited him to
the royal residence at Xerac in Guienne. The genius and
eloquence of Beza soon made Calvinism popular, and,
abetted by the queen of Navarre, over whom he obtained
unbounded influence, he succeeded in the year 1560 in
destroying many monasteries and churches belonging to
the establishment.

The celebrated colloquy at Poissy was held in the year
1561, before Charles IX, the queen mother, Catherine
de Medicis, and the rest of the French court, between
the ecclesiastics of the Gallican church and the calvinistic
ministers. At this colloquy Beza was distinguished by
the readiness of his wit, the flow of his eloquence, and the
badness of his logic. Beza was the spokesman chosen by
the Huguenot ministers, and was the chief manager on
their side.

Xotwithstanding the attempts to come to an under-
standing with the Huguenots on the part of the Gallican
divines, the colloquy at Poissy, and the subsequent con
ferences, were brought to no satisfactory conclusion. But
Beza did not return immediately to Geneva, for when he
waited upon the queen mother, to take leave, she claimed
him as a Frenchman, and entreated that he would not
abandon his native country, while the slightest opening
seemed to remain for a mitigation of religious hostility.
His consent was the more readily obtained by the willing-
ness which the queen at the same time expressed not to
oppose any obstacle against the performance of calvinistic
worship in Paris : which was celebrated accordingly,
wholly without disguise, by large congregations.

382 BEZA.

The condition of France was at this time miserably
distracted. Some awful collisions between the Catholics
and Huguenots occurred, and many were the intrigues on
either side to win over the leaders of the opposite party,
who, with religion for the pretext, were too often influ-
enced by personal motives. Beza profited by the edict of
January, 1562, and preached often in the suburbs of
Paris ; but he was once more summoned to a more con-
spicuous arena, and greatly distinguished himself at the
conference in the council chamber at St Germain, where
the ecclesiastics of the church of France were again assem-
bled by the queen mother, to dispute with the Huguenot
ministers on the use of images. Beza spoke on the first
day for two hours, and the controversy, as Mr Smedley
remarks, was conducted with some playfulness and good
humour : the latter was a desirable object, but playfulness
is scarcely to be praised on so solemn an occasion. The
Romanists were far from agreeing among themselves.
Despence, Boutillier, Picherel and Salignac, altogether
abandoned the defence of representations of the Trinity,
and of any of the three Persons of the Godhead ; and
Beza has most graphically described the distress of the
unhappy cardinal de Tournon, when he perceived the
tendency of their speeches^ The president, he says, as
Salignac went on, first groaned inwardly, then grumbled
openly, next rose from his chair and walked to the fire-
place, and at last fairly buried himself out of sight
in the farthest corner of the room. Montluc supported
the same opinions " magnificently," founding his argu-
ments on Scripture and on the fathers, and maintaining
his position by correct and powerful reasoning. He com-
plained also of a personal grievance inflicted upon himself
by the Sorbonne. It seems that the faculty, without due
respect to his episcopal character, had condemned a book
written by him for the use of his clergy in the diocese of
Valence, and containing sound and Christian doctrine ;
while at the same moment it had authorized a very stupid
and silly rhyming volume, by one Arthur Desire, which,

BEZA. 383

among other evil matters had thus falsified the second
commandment in doggrel : —

" Thou shalt make a graven Image,

At your choice of every kind,
Honour it and pay it homage,

God in that great joy shall find."

The bishop of Valence, and the four doctors who agreed
with him, then drew up a paper, founded on the above
admissions ; and expressing their willingness to consent
to the removal of all sculptures and paintings of the
Trinity, as prohibited by Scripture, by councils, and by
many personages of sound wisdom and saintly life. They
condemned also the unseemly and licentious carved work
which often profaned ecclesiastical buildings, and the
representations of the legends of those saints, both male
and female, whom the Church rejected as apochryphal.
They were content to abolish the adoration, salutation,
osculation, investment, and coronation of images ; the
offering of vows to them, and the processions in which
they were carried about, whether through the streets or
in churches. The other divines admitted that there
might be a few abuses which demanded reform, but stoutly
supported the necessity of retaining images altogether.

Beza in consequence presented a long written address
to the queen, in which his main argument was founded
upon the second commandment, unlawfully retrenched from
the decalogue by the church of Rome, as he proved on the
authority of the fathers. He protested against any mis-
interpretation, which might represent him as condemning
painting and sculpture in general. They were innocent
and even necessary arts, when not employed in opposition
to religion and conscience ; but the danger of their minis-
tering to idolatry had been discovered not only in the time
of the writers of the Old Testament, and in the first three
centuries of the Church, but also by the wisest legislators
and moralists of paganism. Witness Numa and the
Lacedemonians among the former; Varro, Horace, and

384 BEZA.

Persius among the latter. He then critically examined
the word idol, which some had wished to restrict to images
of the heathen gods ; and he proved by reference to
Euripides, Homer, and Virgil, (if in agitating sacred
themes he might be permitted to name such profane poets)
that u^ojXov, ehcwv, lyolufix,, imago and simulacrum, were alto-
gether synonymous. These philological niceties, he con-
tinued, are little however to the purpose. God's prohibition
of idolatry is universal ; and if images be worshipped,
whether by pagans or by Christians, they are worshipped
alike in direct violation of the Divine Law. It is idle to
urge that the prohibition delivered in the Old Testament
relates solely to the Jews, and, as a part of their ceremo-
nial law, is abolished together with the rest of it : those
who argue thus should be prepared at the same time to
prove that idolatry was a sinful tendency peculiar to the
Hebrew nation ; whereas, in point of fact, it is a vice
which besets human nature itself. In a word, the com-
mandment was delivered for all men and for all seasons,
and St Augustine has well said that so far as it is concerned,
we are now the Jews. The cherubim on the ark of the
covenant have been cited as an exception, and they are so.
But they were fashioned after an express injunction from
God ; and can the church of Rome produce any similar
injunction for any of its images ? moreover, the ark of the
covenant was deposited in the sanctuary, remote from the
general eye, and therefore not exposed to the abuse of
adoration. No worship was paid by the Jews either to
the sanctuary or to the altar, any more than to the fire
which blazed, or to the victim which burned on the latter;
and the romanist who affirms otherwise may be accused
on similar grounds, and by borrowing his own argument,
of worshipping the Pig of St Anthony, the Horse of St
Martin, and the Devil of St Michael, with no less fervent
devotion than that which he offers to the images of those
saints themselves.

In reply to the customary argument that honour is not
directed to the image but to that which the image repre-

BEZA. 385

sents, Beza triumphantly inquired (and the inquiry has
never yet been answered) why then is any local superiority
admitted ? Why is one image considered more holy and
more potent than another ? Why are pilgrimages made
to distant images, when there are others, perhaps of far
better workmanship, near at hand ? Again, is it tolerable
that in a Christian church an image of the Virgin Mary
should be addressed in terms appropriate solely to the
Almighty Father, " omnibus es omnia !" If the Virgin
were yet alive and on earth, how would the humility and
lowliness of heart, which she ever so conspicuously evinced,
be shocked by the hourly impious appeals to her supposed
maternal authority over her blessed Son ; " Boga Pat rem.
jube Natum /" " Jure Matris impera /" Then, adverting
to the reputed miracles performed by images, he contended
that by the evidence of judicial inquiries, most of them
had been indisputably proved impostures : and even with
regard to such as remained undetected, it was detracting
honour from God, the sole author of miracles, to attribute
any hidden virtue or mystic efficacy to wood or stone.
Passing on to a review of the long controversy about
images maintained in the Greek church, he concluded by
affirming that not less idolatry might be occasioned by
crucifixes than by images themselves ; and the only part
of this memorial, distinguished as it is by acuteness of
argument and soundness of learning, in which we per-
ceive any approach to special pleading, is a somewhat too
subtle distinction which it attempts to establish between
the sign of the cross and a material crucifix. The pro-
positions appended to this document were that images
should be altogether abolished : or if that measure were
thought too sweeping, that the king would consent to the
removal of all representations of the Trinity or its separate
Personages ; of all images which were indecorous, as for
the most part were those of the Virgin ; of such as were
profane, as those of beasts and many others, produced by
the fantastic humours of artists ; of all publicly exhibited

VOL. II 2 K

386 BEZA.

in the streets, or so placed at altars that they might
receive superstitious veneration ; that no offerings or
pilgrimages should be made to them ; and finally, that
crucifixes also should be removed, so that the only repre-
sentation of the passion of our Lord might be that
lively portrait engraved on our hearts by the word of Holy
Scripture.

If the suggestions of Montluc and his party, so accord-
ant with the propositions of Beza, had been admitted by
the general body of the Gallican church, this conference
seemed to promise a nearer approach to union than any of
its predecessors ; and it must be admitted that the conces-
sions to which the moderate Romanists inclined, were
sufficiently ample. But the opinions of those inveterately
hostile to all reform ultimately prevailed, and the only
result of the discussion, says Beza, was that each party
abided by its own opinion.

Beza had converted the king of Navarre so far as to
make him a partizan of Calvinism ; but the royal convert
remained as profligate when a calvinist, as he had been
when he professed Catholicism, and the court soon found
means to bring him back once more to the established
church. His hostility to Beza was shewn at an audience
Beza had with the queen mother, when deputed by the
Huguenot ministers to lay their complaint before her,
with reference to the violations which had occurred of the
edict of January, to which allusion has been made before.
The king of Navarre, sternly regarding Beza, accused
the Huguenots of now attending worship with arms,
Beza replied, that arms, when borne by men of discretion,
were the surest guarantee of peace ; and that since the
transactions at Vassy, (where a fracas had taken place
between the retainers of the duke of Guise, and a Hugue-
not congregation, the duke's people being the aggressors)
their adoption had become necessary till the church should
receive surer protection; a protection which he humbly
requested, in the name of those brethren who had hitherto

BEZA. 382

placed so great dependence on his majesty. The cardinal
of Ferrara here interrupted him by some incorrect repre-
sentation of the tumult at St Medard; but he was silenced
by Beza, who spoke of those occurrences as an eye-witness,
and then reverted to the menacing advance of the duke of
Guise upon Paris. The king of Navarre declared with
warmth, that whoever should touch the little finger of
" his brother," the duke of Guise, might as well presume
to touch the whole of his own body. Beza replied with
gentleness, but with dignity: he implored the king of
Navarre to listen patiently, reminded him of their long
intercourse, and of the special invitation from his majesty
in consequence of which he had returned to France in the
hope of assisting in its pacification. " Sire," he con-
cluded in memorable words, " it belongs, in truth, to the
church of God, in the name of which I address you, to
suffer blows, not to strike them. But at the same time let
it be your pleasure to remember that the Church is an

ANVIL WHICH HAS WORN OUT MANY A HAMMER."

Well would it have been if Beza and his partizans had
always remembered this, and instead of taking up arms to
defend their cause, had maintained it like the primitive
Christians by patient suffering. Perhaps they would then
have led to the gradual reformation of the church of
France, whereas now they took the sword, and perished
by the sword. Each party armed. And the question
was, which was the stronger, each being prepared, on ob-
taining the ascendency, to persecute the other. We are
not to suppose that the Huguenots were greater friends to
toleration than the Catholics, for in a synod assembled on
the 9th of March, 1563, at which seventy-two protestant
ministers attended, they demanded that the king should
declare himself Protector and Conservator of the confes-
sion of faith presented to him in 1561 ; and then they
pointed out, according to Mr Smedley, " the strong
necessity of rigorous punishment being directed against
all heretics and schismatics, whom they stigmatized by
the names of Atheists, Libertines, Anabaptists, and
Servetists."

388 BEZA.

It is not necessary to enter into a detailed account of
the bloody and atrocious actions of which the protestants
were guilty in seeking to gain the ascendency ; or of the
equally bloody, and in the event, more atrocious retalia-
tions of the Catholics. On either side there was an
incarnate fiend. The enormities of Blaise de Montluc
disgraced the Catholic cause ; while the protestant cause
was equally disgraced by the cruelties of the Baron Des
Andrets. With the leaders of the protestants Beza acted,
and he was kept by the prince of Conde near his person ;
but the leaders, for the most part, abstained from encou-
raging the cruelties of their followers, although they ex-
cited the people to rise up in arms against the government
Beza continued with the insurgents, following the prince
of Conde in all his marches, cheering him by his letters
when in prison, and reanimating the Huguenots in their
defeats, until his career as a herald of war was terminated
by the battle of Dreux. At that battle, fought on the
19th of December, 1502, in which the Huguenots were
defeated, Beza was present ; but he did not engage in the
battle, he was merely at hand to advise his friends.

In the following February, the duke of Guise, the
lieutenant-general of the kingdom, was assassinated before
Orleans by a protestant named Poltrot. When the
assassin was seized and examined before the queen and
council, he accused Beza, among other leading Huguenots,
and declared him to have been privy to his design. Beza
declared that, notwithstanding the great and general in-
dignation aroused against the duke of Guise on account
of the massacre at Vassy, he had never entertained an
opinion that he should be proceeded against otherwise
than by the methods of ordinary justice ; for the attain-
ment of which purpose he had assisted with other deputies
from the protestant congregations in presenting a memorial
to the queen and the late king of Navarre. He admitted
that since the duke had commenced the war, he had ex-
horted the protestants both by letters and sermons to use
their arms ; but he had at the same time inculcated the

BEZA. 389

utmost possible moderation, and had instructed them to
seek peace above all things next to the honour of God ;
taking heed that they were not deceived. Moreover, that
since he esteemed the duke of Guise to be the principal
author and fosterer of these troubles, he had numberless
times prayed God that He would either change the duke's
heart, (of which indeed he never entertained any hope) or
else that He would deliver the kingdom from his tyranny :
but that he had never held communication either by him-
self or by any other, with Poltrot, with whom indeed he
was wholly unacquainted. In the act committed by that
person, however, he recognised the just judgment of God,
menacing similar or yet greater punishments to all the
confederated enemies of His holy gospel, who are the
occasion of so many miseries and calamities to France.
Then, commenting on some particular phrases which
Poltrot had attributed to him, he expressed a willingness
to rest his defence singly upon their manifest falsehood ;
for, God be thanked! he was not so ill instructed in his
duty as to misapply scripture by exhorting one who de-
signed to commit murder, to " take up his cross even as
his Saviour had taken it up ;" and much less did it accord
with the doctrine which he professed, to promise any man
paradise as a reward for his works.

After the peace of 1563, Beza returned to Geneva, and
resumed his functions of professor and pastor. On
Calvin's death, in 1564, he became virtually the head of
presbyte nanism, and sought to interfere in the religious
affairs of every nation. Indignant at the manner in which
Beza abetted the puritans of England in their schism,
Bancroft, archbishop of Canterbury, remarked that " he
wished a man would read the epistles of Leo, sometime
bishop of Rome, and compare them with one of Beza's, to
consider whether took more upon them, Leo, where he
might command, or Beza, where there was no reason why
he should at all have intermeddled."

Beza did not return to France till 1568, when he
2 k-2

390 BEZA.

epaired to Vezelai on some family business. He visited
his native country again to attend and preside over a
Huguenot synod, which assembled at La Rochelle, in
1571.

Never had any Huguenot ecclesiastical meeting been
attended by so many distinguished personages as graced
this synod. " There were present," says the report of its
acts, " Joane, by the grace of God, queen of Navarre ; the
high and mighty prince Henry, prince of Navarre : the
high and mighty prince Henry de Bourbon, prince of
Conde : the most illustrious prince Louis, count of
Nassau ; sir Gasper count de Coligny, the admiral of
France, and divers other lords and gentlemen, besides the
deputies who were members of the Church of God." A
proposition made by the admiral is distinguished by its
gentleness and charity ; — that no person when first
reported to the consistory for impropriety of behaviour
should be mentioned by name till his miscarriage had
been proved. The queen of Navarre was warned in some-
what imperious language, " not to sell her vacant offices,
especially those of judicature ; nor to bestow them upon
the recommendation of another, without her personal
knowledge of their qualifications and abilities who are to
discharge them ;" and to a question which she proposed
she received an answer manifesting that the protestants
were animated by a decided spirit of exclusiveness.
" The queen of Navarre demanded our advice whether
through want of others she might with a good conscience
receive and establish Roman Catholic officers in her
dominions, as also in her court and family. To which
the synod humbly replied, that her majesty should take
special heed about her domestic officers, and as much
as possible employ persons fearing God, and of the re-
formed religion ; and that she should cause the papists
who are peaceable, and of unblameable lives, to be in-
structed, and that she should utterly discard those traitors,
who forsook her in her necessities, and cruelly persecuted
God's saints in these last troubles."

BEZA. 391

At this assembly the Huguenot confession of faith was
confirmed, and two copies of it were taken, one of which
was deposited at Rochelle, the other in the archives of
Geneva.

After the execrable massacre of St Bartholomew;s-eve,
Beza honourably exerted himself to support those of the
French whom the fear of death drove from their native
land ; he interested in their behalf the princes of Ger-
many. He also founded a French hospital at Geneva.

In 1572 he assisted at an assembly of the Huguenots
at Xismes, where he opposed John Morrel, who desired to
introduce a new discipline. The prince of Conde caused
him to come to him at Strasburg in the year 1574, to
send him to prince John Casimer, administrator of the
palatinate. In 1586 he was employed in the conference
of ^lembelliard, against John Andreas, a divine of Tubin-
gen. Beza desired that the dispute should be managed
syllogistically ; but he was obliged to yield to the desires
of his adversaries, who refused to be confined to syllo-
gisms. In this dispute, as in so many others, each party-
boasted of having won the victory.

In 1588, she who had lived with him, first as his
mistress, and then as his wife, for forty years, paid the
debt of nature, and Beza consoled himself before the
end of the year by marrying Catherine de la Plane, a
widow lady. He was now seventy years of age, and his
enemies applied to the septuagenarian the amorous love-
songs which first rendered his name popular, and of which
in his maturer years he was ashamed. For the wife of his
youth his affections seem to have grown cold ; for her
death did not deter him from attending the synod which
about that time the calvinists of Berne had assembled.
His admirers have recorded with pleasure the care which
his new wife took of him ; and of his own gratitude we
have the proof in the fact that he left her all that he
possessed at Geneva, where he died on the 13th of Octo-
ber, 1605, in his 87th year.

In the affairs of the church of England Beza, as we

392 BEZA.

have before seen, had the presumption to interfere ; and, as
he had acted as a rebel in France, he encouraged insubor-
dination in this country. The puritans consulted him,
and, according to Strype, they craved his advice in two
things :

I. By what means the queen and bishops might be ad-
monished of their duty ?

II. What they might do in this juncture with a good
conscience ?

Beza seriously deliberating with himself, and knowing
the queen had no great esteem for the church of Geneva,
and that she and the bishops had an honourable respect
for that of Zurich, resolved to write to Bullinger, the chief
pastor there, and to give him an account of the state of
the church of England, and to excite him earnestly to
send Gu alter into the said kingdom to the queen and the
bishops, to intercede in the behalf of the refusers, and to
persuade to some further reformation in the church. And
this he thought would happen very seasonably, a parlia-
ment being at hand, wTherein matters of the church would
be transacted. So he wrote a private letter to the said Bul-
linger, wherein he told him, How the miserable brethren
craved the counsel, comfort, and prayers of those churches,
by whose charity they were once relieved, and hoped
again to be so. He confessed that some of them were
somewhat morose : but in such miseries, he said, it was
hard to keep due bounds ; and since their aim was good,
his opinion was, that their importunity was to be excused.
That by the accounts of the ecclesiastical affairs of Eng-
land, as he further told father Bullinger, popery was not
cast out of England, but rather transferred to the queen's
majesty: and that nothing else was drove at, than that
what had been lately taken away, might be by little and
little restored again. He thought, he said, that the busi-
ness had been about caps, and such external matters ; but
that the controversy was much different, he afterwards
understood, and that with exceeding trouble and sorrow
of mind. That when the outward calling, the examina-

BEZA. 393

tion of doctrine and manners preceding, done not by any
one person, but the whole company of the brethren, was
as it were the basis and foundation of the ecclesiastical
ministry, what was baser and more irregular, than that
liberty the bishops took, to ordain at their own pleasure,
not those that were called, but those that came of their
own accord ? And presently, without any place appointed
them, they approved them fit either to serve, as they
called it, or to teach. And at length they called whom
they pleased, and set them over what churches they
pleased, giving them a certain instrument for a price, and
interposing an oath for two things, viz. that they should
acknowledge the queen's majesty for the supreme head of
the Church next under Christ, and that they would follow
the laws of the kingdom, and especially the book of the
reformation [meaning the liturgy] and all the rites, and
to disallow of nothing therein,

As for ecclesiastical discipline, that it was not other-
wise than was in the papacy ; that in the place of a pres-
bytery lawfully chosen, they had their deans, chancellors,
archdeacons, officials, who, according to their wills, and as
it useth to be in the civil courts, pronounced excommuni-
cation jure canonico, even for pleas of money and such
like. Which sentence the bishop, or his official, sent to
the minister to be read in the church ; and this to hold
valid, until they come and agree with the judge. And
the same course was taken in absolving as in excommuni-
cating. How little were they distant from the law of
celibacy, who might not marry wives without the express
letters of the queen, and the assent of the bishop, and
two other justices of the peace ? And being married, they
were forbid to bring their wives into colleges, or within
the bounds of the cathedral churches, as though they
were unclean. That not only the revenues of the benefices
were left to papists, but the ecclesiastical offices them-
selves, yielding only an oath to observe the reformation.
Insomuch that the godly brethren were placed under
many unlearned priests, and such as were most bitter

394 BEZA.

enemies in their heart to religion, and were forced to be
subject to their jurisdiction. That in the archbishop's
court were publicly set to sale dispensations for non-resi-
dence, pluralities of benefices, choice of meats, marrying
out of the appointed times, for a child to hold a benefice,
and other things of that nature ; than which Rome itself
had not any thing more filthy and unworthy. That bap-
tism by women was allowed of in case of necessity. That
of those few that were pure preachers of the gospel, some
were put out of their livings, some thrust into prisons,
unless they would promise to approve of all these, and
'not to gainsay them in word or writing, and resembled
the priests of Baal, by wearing square caps, tippets, sur-
plices, and the like. Nor was this all, but that whatsoever
hereafter the queen, or the archbishop alone, pleased to
appoint, change, or take away in the rites of the church,
should be holden firm and good. This, he said, was
the state of this church, which to him was miserable and
intolerable.

"His judgment was, that though God alone could cure
this evil, yet that some trial should be made, rather than
it should be endured that such a building should by
suffered insolence fall down. That as for their church of
Geneva, he left him to judge how it was hated by the
queen, in that she had never by the least word signified
that his present to her of his annotations was acceptable.
That the cause of her hatred was twofold. One was, that
they were esteemed too severe and rigid, which especially
displeased, he said, such as were afraid of being rebuked.
The other, that heretofore, while queen Mary lived, two
books were published at Geneva, yet without their know-
ledge ; one against the government of women, by Mr Knox ;
the other of the right of the magistracy, by Mr Gudman.
But when they knew what was contained in both these
books, the French church was displeased at them, and
accordingly they were forbid to be exposed to sale. But
the queen nevertheless cherished her conceived ill opinion.
And that their church therefore was not fit to send either

BEZA. 395

messenger or letter to the queen, for the regulation of
these disorders. But he did earnestly desire, that some
might be sent from Zurich ; for that theirs was the church
alone, by whose authority both the queen and the bishops
did seem to be moved. And therefore that by the
authority of the magistrate, or at least by their permission
and connivance, somebody might be chose out of their
congregation, who should go into England for this very
cause, and sue to the queen and bishops for a remedy
against all these evils. That this would be a truly
heroical fact, worthy of their city, and highly grateful to
God. That they had a good way through France to Dieppe
by a land journey, which they might despatch in eleven
days ; and from Dieppe into England, with a good wind,
in ten hours : and that in their way they might salute and
confirm many French churches, and take one or two of
the learneder of those churches with them. And finally,
he pitched upon Rodulf Gualter, in all respects, as the
fittest to manage and despatch this matter. So that he
might seem to be one sent thither by God's own voice, to
refresh the poor brethren, and to preserve the kingdom.
Or at least, if they declined this, to send their letter at
large both to the queen and bishops, to admonish thern
to their duty. And he doubted not but a message so
godly and charitable would be well taken both by the
queen and the godly bishops at least ; who, he heard,
with the lord keeper, sought for a fit occasion to move for
a redress of these things."

In a letter to Dr Grindal, when bishop of London, he
also expresses himself with equal freedom and ignorance
" concerning the religious contentions on foot in England,
having heard by certain letters sent hence both into France
and Germany, concerning divers ministers discharged
their parishes, otherwise men of good lives and learning,
by the queen, the bishops also consenting, because they
refused to subscribe to certain new rites: and that the
sum of the queen's commands were, to admit again not
only those garments, the signs of Baal's priests in popery,

396 BEZA.

but also certain rites, which also were degenerated into the
worst superstitions ; as the signing with the cross, kneeling
in the communion, and such like : and, which was still
worse, that women should baptize, and that the queen
should have a power of superinducing other rites, and
that all power should be given to the bishop alone in
ordering the matters of the church ; and no power, not so
much as of complaining, to remain to the pastor of each
church. Thus it seems the noncompliers had represented
the present condition of our church to those abroad. That
learned divine, (as he signified to our bishop,) upon these
reports, wrote back to his friends, that the queen's ma-
jesty, and many of the learned and religious bishops, had
promised far better things; and that a great many of
these matters were, at least as it seemed to him, feigned
by some evil-meaning men, and wrested some other way :
but withal he beseeched the bishop, that they two might
confer a little together concerning these things. He knew,
as he went on, there was a twofold opinion concerning the
restoration of the church : first, of some who thought no-
thing ought to be added to the apostolical simplicity ; and
so, that without exception whatsoever the apos les did,
ought to be done by us ; and whatsoever the Church, that
succeeded the apostles, added to the first rites, were to be
abolished at once : that on the other side there were some,
who were of opinion, that certain ancient rites besides
ought to be retained ; partly as profitable and necessary,
partly, if not necessary, yet to be tolerated for concord
sake. Then did the aforesaid reverend man proceed to
shew at large, why he himself was of opinion with the
former sort : and in fine, he said, that he had not yet
learned by what right (whether one looks into Gods word
or the ancient canons) either the civil magistrate of him-
self might superinduce any new rites upon the churches
already constituted, or abrogate ancient ones ; or that it
was lawful for bishops to appoint any new thing without
the judgment and will of their presbytery. This letter
was written the 5th of the calends of July ; that is, June
the 27th, 1566."

BIDDLE. 397

Several other passages might be produced to shew that
in Beza's opinion the reformation of the church of Eng-
land was in principle very different from calvinistic refor-
mation, and that in the opinion of the calvinists popery
still adhered to us. The church of Elizabeth's reign was
regarded by the pope of the calvinistic reformation, as
popish; what would he have thought of the English church
as it is now, the subsequent reformations in the reigns
of James I, and Charles II, having restored many ancient
and catholic practices ? But a reformed church, as ours
is, preserving the via media, must expect to be regarded
as ultra-protestant by papists, and as popish by ultra-
protestants.

Besides the works already named, Beza published a
Latin treatise, de Divortiis et Repudiis against Ochinus,
who had written in favour of polygamy; Histoire Ecclesi-
astique des Eglises Beformees du Royaume de France
depuis Tan 1521, jusquea 1563, in 1580; and in the
same year Icones Illustrium Virorum. In 1588 was pub-
lished a translation of the Bible by the calvinists of
Geneva, in which he had a considerable share. — Histoire
Ecclesiastique. Smedley's Reformed Religion in France.
Bayle. Strypes Annals and Life of Grinded.

Biddle, John. This unfortunate person was the
founder of that sect of heretics in England who de-
nominate themselves Unitarians, but are generally known
as Socinians. He was born in 1615, at Wotton-under-
Edge, in Gloucestershire ; and was educated at the free-
school in that town, where he was patronized by George,
lord Berkeley, who allowed him an exhibition of ten
pounds a year. In 1634 he was sent to the university of
Oxford, and was entered at Magdalen hall. On the 23rd
of June, 1638, he took the degree of bachelor of arts, and
soon after was invited to be master of the school of his
native place, but declined it. In 1641, he took his
degree of master of arts, and the magistrates of Gloucester

VOL. II. 2 L

398 BIDDLE.

having chosen him master of the free-school of St Mary
de Crypt in that city, he settled there, and was much
esteemed for his diligence and learning. By no one was
his sincerity in the search of truth ever impeached ; and
he was so diligent a student of the New Testament that,
with the exception of a few chapters in the Apocalypse, he
learnt the whole by heart both in English and Greek.
But his sincerity in acting upon a principle he had re-
ceived, added to the acuteness of his intellect, led him
into errors, from which persons either less honest or with
Wss ability, though receiving the same principle, have
happily escaped. He had been taught to despise the
authority of the Church, and to receive the Bible, and the
Bible only for his religion, relying for the interpretation
of the Bible upon his private judgment. " He gave,"
says Mr Toulmin, "the holy Scriptures a diligent reading,
and made use of no other rule to determine controversies
about religion than the Scriptures ; and of no other
authentic interpreter, if a scruple arose concerning the
sense of the Scriptures, than reason" He was bold and
presumptuous in judging of others, for the same biogra-
pher informs us, that he " carefully examined the fathers,
to ascertain their sentiments concerning the one God;"
but that he had a low opinion of their judgment, or
of the weight of their testimony, which he used merely
as an argumentum ad hominem. He thus thoroughly
embraced the ultra- protestant principle, and as the author
of his life informs us, consistently acted upon it. "Having
laid aside the impediments of prejudice, he gave himself
liberty to try all things, that he might hold fast that
which is good. Thus diligently reading the holy Scrip-
tures (for Socinian books he had read none) he perceived
the common doctrine concerning the Holy Trinity was not
well grounded in revelation, much less in reason, and
being as generous in speaking as free in judging, he
did, as occasion offered, discover his reason of questioning
it."

BIDDLE.

Thus was Biddle brought to conclusions which shocked
the piety of those who, admitting in theory his principle,
had, nevertheless, received the truth by tradition, and
maintained it vigorously. He was accused of heresy.
His accusers held, as he did, that the Bible, and the
Bible only, interpreted according to the view adopted by
their private judgment, is the religion of protestants, and
yet they accused Biddle of heresy, as if his private judg-
ment were not as good as that of his opponents. If they
had accused him of bad logic, their course would have
been intelligible ; but by heresy is meant any other inter-
pretation of the Bible than that which has been adopted
by the catholic Church on points upon which the catholic
Church, through general councils, has spoken. By a
Catholic he must be regarded as a heretic ; by an ultra-
protestant only as mistaken, even if mistaken.

The unfortunate Biddle, being summoned before the
magistrates, exhibited in writing a confession which was
not thought satisfactory ; so that he was obliged to exhibit
another more explicit than the former, in order to avoid
imprisonment with which he was threatened.

But in acting thus he acted disingenuously, for he
retained his heretical opinions, and becoming more con-
firmed in them by a closer study of the Bible only, he
drew up " twelve arguments on questions drawn out of
the Scripture, wherein the commonly-received opinion
touching the Deity of the Holy Spirit is clearly and fully
refuted." This was his first publication. It was origin-
ally drawn up with the intention of printing it privately ;
but a professed friend having informed the magistrates,
and also the parliamentary committee (then in the town i
of this project, the unfortunate author, though suffering
under a fever, was committed to the common gaol, till
parliament should take cognizance of the matter (Dec. 2,
1045.) He was soon after released upon bail, and in 1640
received a visit from archbishop Usher, who was passing
through Gloucester on his way to London; but all the

400 BIDDLE.

efforts of that great scholar to convince him of his error
were unavailing.

The archbishop, indeed, referred to the authority of the
Church, but to this Biddle as an ultra-protestant could not
defer, he adhered to the Bible, and the Bible only ; and as
to the interpretation of it, his own intei-pretation was of
equal value with that of any councils or fathers. Edwards,
in his Gangrsena, describes the interview, informing us
that the archbishop, " coming through Gloucester, spake
with him, and used him with all fairness and pity, as well
as strength of arguments, to convince him of his danger-
ous error. A minister of the city of Gloucester told me,
the bishop laboured to convince him, telling him that
either he was in a damnable error, or else the whole
Church of Christ, who had in all ages worshipped the
Holy Ghost, had been guilty of idolatry ; but the man was
no whit moved either by the learning, gravity, piety, or
zeal of the good bishop, but continued obstinate !"

Six months after he had been set at liberty he was sum-
moned to appear at Westminster, and the parliament ap-
pointed a committee to examine him ; before whom he freely
confessed, that he did not acknowledge the commonly
received notion of the divinity of the Holy Ghost; but that he
was nevertheless ready to hear what could be urged against
him, and if he could not maintain his opinion he would
honestly confess his error. But being wearied with tedi-
ous and expensive delays, he wrote a letter to sir Henry
Vane, a member of the committee, requesting him either
to procure his discharge, or to make a report of his
case to the house of commons. The result of this was his
being committed to the custody of one of their officers,
which restraint continued for five years. He was at
length referred to the assembly of divines then sitting at
Westminster, before whom he often appeared, and gave
them in writing his twelve arguments, which were pub-
lished the same year. Upon their publication he was
summoned to appear at the bar of the house of commons ;

BIDDLE. 401

where being asked, whether he owned this treatise, and
the opinions therein, he answered in the affirmative.
Upon this he was committed to prison, and the house
ordered, on the 6th of Septernber, 1647, that the book
should be called in and burnt by the hangman, and the
author be examined by the committee of plundered minis-
ters ; and it was accordingly burnt the 8th of the same
month. But Mr Biddle drew a greater storm upon him-
self by two tracts he published in the year 1648, "A con-
fession of faith touching the Holy Trinity according to
the Scripture ; and the testimonies of Irenaeus, Justin
Martyr, Tertullian, Novatianus, Theophilus, Origen. As
also of Arnobius, Lactantius, Eusebius, Hilary, and
Brightman ; concerning the one God, and the Persons of
the Holy Trinity, together with observations on the same."
As soon as they were published the assembly of divines
solicited the parliament, and procured an ordinance, in-
flicting death upon those that held opinions contrary to
the received doctrine concerning the Trinity, and severe
penalties on those who differed in lesser matters. These
persons, it will be remembered, were ultra-protestants
and dissenters : men professing liberality. And these
are the men whom the enemies of the Church hold up
to the public as models, while they represent Laud, and
the churchmen of his day, as tyrants. The Romish
persecutors under Gardiner and Bonner are justly held
up to execration, by the most enlightened even among
the Romanists ; but in what, so far as intention was con-
cerned, did they differ from these dissenting divines, who
would punish with death all who drew conclusions from
Scripture different from their own deductions, but accord-
ing to their own principles ? That the fires of persecution
did not rage so furiously is to be attributed, not to the
generous feelings of the Westminster divines, but to the
fact that there had taken place a change in the spirit of
the age ; and while men were ready to persecute, they
were not prepared to subject themselves to such a tribunal
2l2

402 BIDDLE.

as this ultra-protestant Inquisition would have been.
The ordinance, dated May 2, 1648, declared all such
persons guilty of felony, as should "willingly, by preach-
ing, teaching, printing, or writing, maintain and publish,
that there is no God, or that God is not present in all
places, doth not know and foreknow all things, or that He
is not almighty, that He is not perfectly holy, or that He
is not eternal, or that the Father is not God, the Son is
not God, and the Holy Ghost is not God, or that they
Three are not one eternal God : or that shall in like man-
ner maintain and publish, that Christ is not God, equal
with the Father ; or shall deny the Manhood of Christ,
or that the Manhood or Godhead of Christ are several
natures, or that the Humanity of Christ is not pure and
unspotted of all sin ; or that shall maintain and publish,
as aforesaid, that Christ did not die, nor rise from the
dead, nor is ascended into heaven bodily ; or that shall
deny His death is meritorious in the behalf of believers ;
or that shall maintain and publish, as aforesaid, that
Jesus Christ is not the Son of God ; or that the Holy
Scripture, of the Old and New Testament, is not the word
of God ; or that the bodies of men, after they are dead,
shall not rise again ; or that there is no day of judgment
after death. All such persons, upon complaint and proof
made of the same, before any two of the next justices of
the peace for that place or county, by the oaths of two
witnesses, or confession of the party ; the said party so
accused shall be by the said justices committed to prison
without bail or mainprise, until the next gaol-delivery,
and the witnesses bound over to give their evidence at
the said gaol- delivery ; at which time the party shall be
indicted for felonious publishing and maintaining such
error. And in case the indictment be found, and the
party upon his trial shall not abjure his said error, and
defence and maintenance of the same, he shall suffer the
pains of death, as in case of felony, without benefit of
clergy ; but in case he shall recant, he shall nevertheless

BIDDLE. 403

remain in prison, until he finds two sureties to be bound
with him, before two or more justices of the peace, that
he shall not thenceforth publish or maintain the said
errors any more, and the justices shall have power to take
bail. And if any person indicted formerly for maintain-
ing and publishing erroneous opinions, shall again publish
and maintain the same, he shall suffer death, as in case of
felony, without benefit of clergy."

The ordinance further enjoins, that all persons who
should publish or maintain, " That all men shall be
saved; or that man by nature hath free-will to turn t<>
God ; or that God may be worshipped in or by pictures
or images : or that the soul of any man after death goeth
to purgatory ; or that revelations, or the workings of the
Spirit, are a rule of faith or Christian life, though diverse
from, or contrary to, the written word of God ; or that
man is bound to believe no more than by his reason he
can comprehend ; or that the moral law of God, contained
in the Ten Commandments, is no rule of Christian life :
or that a believer need not repent, or pray for pardon of
sins : or that the two Sacraments are not commanded by
the word of God, or are unlawful ; or that the churches of
England are no true churches, nor their ministers and
ordinances true ministers and ordinances ; or that the
church government by presbytery is unchristian or un-
lawful ; or that all use of arms, though for the public
defence, (and be the cause never so just) is unlawful : —
that all persons, who should publish or maintain any
of the said errors, and be convicted thereof, should be
ordered to renounce them in the public congregation of
the same parish from whence the complaint comes, or
where the offence was committed. And in case of refusal,
to be committed to prison by two of the next justices,
until he find two sufficient sureties, that he shall not
maintain or publish the said errors any more."

This ordinance was published in 1648, 4to, and is
preserved in the Introduction prefixed to an edition of
Fr. Cheynells Chillingworthi Xovissima; the author of

404 BIDDLE.

which Introduction justly observes, that though " the
presbyterians were possessed of their power but a very
short time, yet in that space they were for carrying their
ecclesiastical tyranny beyond what themselves charged on
their former oppressors."

The dissentions by which parliament was at this time torn
seem to have prevented the ordinance from being carried
into effect ; and to this we may add the hostility of the
rebel army, many of whom, both officers and soldiers,
were liable to its severities. If the army and the dissent-
ing divines had been UDited, there would indeed have
been a reign of terror far worse than that of queen Mary.
Biddle was, nevertheless, kept in confinement, although
the severity of it was not long after mitigated, and he was
even permitted to travel into Staffordshire, when he
became chaplain to a justice of the peace, who at his
death left him a legacy ; but this indulgence coming to
the knowledge of Bradshaw, a closer degree of confine-
ment was the consequence. He now languished for seve-
ral years in prison, until he was reduced to the greatest
indigence, but at last he obtained employment in cor-
recting the press for Daniel's edition of the Septuagint,
by which he obtained a comfortable subsistence. At
length, in 1654, he obtained his liberty under the General
Act of Oblivion, passed in that year, and immediately
established a separate society of the converts to his doc-
trines, to whom he regularly preached every Sunday.
This prosperous state of things, however, was but of short
continuance; a catechism which he published in 1654,
falling into the hands of some of the members of Oliver
Cromwell's parliament, which met September 3, 1654, a
complaint was made against it in the house of commons.
Upon this the author being brought to the bar in the
beginning of December, and asked, whether he wrote
that book ? he answered by asking, whether it seemed
reasonable, that one brought before a judgment-seat as a
criminal, should accuse himself? After some debates
and resolutions, he was on the 13th of December com-

BIDDLE. 405

mitted close prisoDer to the Gatehouse. A bill likewise
was ordered to be brought in for punishing him ; but,
after about six months' imprisonment, he obtained his
liberty in the court of upper bench, by due course of law.
About a year after another no less formidable danger
overtook him, by his engaging in a dispute with one
Griffin, an anabaptist teacher. Many of Griffin's congre-
gation having embraced Biddle's opinions concerning the
Trinity, he thought the best way to stop the spreading of
such errors, would be openly to confute his tenets. For
this purpose he challenged Biddle to a public disputation
at his meeting in the Stone Chapel in St Paul's cathedral,
on this question, " Whether Jesus Christ be the Most
High or Almighty God?" Biddle would have declined
the dispute, but was obliged to accept it. And the two
antagonists having met amongst a numerous audience,
Griffin repeated the question, asking if any man there did
deny, that Christ was God Most High. To which Biddle
resolutely answered, I do deny it. And by this open
profession gave his adversaries the opportunity of a posi-
tive and clear accusation, of which advantage was soon
taken. But Griffin being baffled, the disputation was
deferred till another day, when Biddle was to take his
turn of proving the negative of the question. In the
meanwhile, Griffin and his party, not thinking themselves
a match for a man of such ability as Biddle, accused him
of fresh blasphemies, and procured an order from the
protector to apprehend him on the 3rd of July, (being the
day before the intended second disputation) and to commit
him to the Compter. He was afterwards sent to Newgate,
and ordered to be tried for his life the next sessions, on
the ordinance against blasphemy. However, the pro-
tector not choosing to have him either condemned or
absolved, took him out of the hands of the law, and de-
tained him in prison, and at length being wearied with
receiving petitions for and against him, banished him to
St Mary's castle, in the Isle of Scilly, whither he was sent
the beginning of October, 1655. During this exile he

406 BILNEY.

employed himself in studying several intricate matters,
particularly the Revelation of St John. About the begin-
ning of the year 1658, the protector, through the interces-
sion of many friends, suffered a writ of habeas corpus to
be granted out of the upper bench court, whereby the
prisoner was brought back, and nothing being laid to his
charge, he was set at liberty. Upon his return to London
he became the pastor of an independent meeting. But he
did not continue long in town, for Oliver Cromwell dying
September the 3rd, 1658, his son Richard called a parlia-
ment consisting chiefly of presbyterians, whom of all men
Biddle most dreaded : he therefore retired privately into
the country.

The troubles of Biddle did not cease with the restora-
tion of the king. Although no ordinance was then passed
to doom to death those who dissented from the established
religion, the time had not yet arrived when the doctrine-
of toleration was understood. To hold a meeting-house
was illegal, and of this illegal act Biddle, who was
narrowly watched, was found guilty, and he was appre-
hended, with a few members of his congregation, on the
1st of June, 1662. They were carried before a justice of
peace, who committed them all to prison, where they lay
until the recorder took security for their answering to the
charge brought against them at the next sessions. But the
court not being then able to find a statute upon which to
form any criminal indictment, they were referred to the
sessions followiug, and proceeded against at common law;
each of the hearers was fined twenty pounds, Mr Biddle
one hundred, and they were to be committed to prison till
the fine was paid. There he contracted a disease which
terminated fatally on the 22nd of September, 1662, in
the 47th year of his age. — Wood. Farrington. Toulmin.
Biog. Brit.

Bilney, Thomas, was born at Norfolk, and educated in
Trinity hall, Cambridge, in the reign of Henry VIII. It
appears from his own statement, that his aspirations alter

BILNEY. 407

holiness were most fervent, and that to abolish the whole
body of sin was the desire of his heart. But his body
being feeble, he became morbid in his mind and melan-
choly. In the history of our Church there is not a worse
period than that which preceded the reformation, and
which rendered the reformation necessary: and Bilney,
though he carefully sought it, found no help from the
Church. There were good men at that time in the
church of England, to whom he might have opened his
grief, and who would have administered to his devoted
yet morbid soul, the consolation he required ; but he fell
into bad hands, " unlearned hearers of confession," as he
calls them, who, seeking their own gain rather than the
salvation of his "sick and languishing soul," appointed
him "fastings, watching, buying of pardons, masses," and
so robbed him both of his strength and his money. But
by the providence of God, Erasmus's Latin version of the
New Testament was placed in his hands ; and making this
his study, he learned how to apply to his soul that comfort
which the hearers of confession, through their wickedness
or ignorance, were unable to apply. And having found
comfort to his own soul, with all the enthusiasm of his
nature, he sought to provide for other souls pining for
comfort, the remedy he had found so efficacious himself.
He was wild, eccentric, enthusiastic, and such a one was
sure to make converts. Among the converts of Bilney
was Hugh Latimer, who afterwards bore a prominent part
in the reformation. That there was depth as well as
fervour in his teaching, is proved by the fact that among
his most devoted admirers was the staid and careful
Matthew Parker, afterwards archbishop of Canterbury.
Bilney 's attack was not directed against the church of
England, but agqinst certain evil practices existing in the
Church : the sum of his preaching and doctiine, as Fox
admits, proceeded chiefly against idolatry, invocation of
saints, vain worship of images, false trust in men's merits,
and such points as " seemed prejudicial and derogatory
to the Blood of our Saviour Jesus Christ." As touching

408 BILNEY.

the mass and sacrament of the altar, according to the
same writer, he never varied or " differed therein," as Fox
states it, " from the most grossest catholics."

The treatment Bilney received, under these circum-
stances, was unjustifiable in the extreme. But, as now our
less learned bishops are sometimes found to treat with
severity those who distinguish between what absolutely
pertains to our Church, and the abuses which ultra-
protestantism has introduced, so then the prelates of our
venerable establishment confounded the Romanism mixed
up with the church system, with the church itself, and
put in force the law, in order to silence those who
endeavoured to distinguish between the wheat and the
chaff.

Bilney preached so earnestly in the neighbourhood of
London against pilgrimages, invocations of saints, and
other corruptions, that the more determined votaries of
Bomanism in our church began to cry out against him
that he ought to be put down : there was an uproar
against the bishops, and the bishops prepared to act with
decision. Bilney was prosecuted for heresy in the year
1527, before Tonstall, bishop of London. After certain
questions had been put to him, and depositions received
on preceding days, we are informed by Fox, that the
bishop of London, with certain other bishops, his assist-
ants, assembled in the Chapter-house of Westminster,
whither also master Bilney was brought, and was ex-
horted and admonished to abjure and recant : but he
answered, that he would stand to his conscience. Then
the bishop of London with the other bishops, ex officio,
published the depositions of the witnesses, with his
articles and answers, commanding that they should be
read. That done, the bishop exhorted him again to
deliberate with himself, whether he would return to the
Church, and renounce his opinions or no, and bade him
to depart into a private place, and there to deliberate with
himself. Which done, the bishop asked him again if he
would return. But he answered, Fiat justitia, et judicium,

BILNEY. 409

in nomine Domini : and being divers times admonished
to abjure, he would make no other answer, but Fiat jus-
titia, &c. And Hsec est dies quam fecit Dominus, exul-
temus and laetemur in ea, [psalm 118.] Then the bishop,
after deliberation, putting off his cap, said; In nomine
Patris and Filis and Spiritus Sancti. Amen. Exurgat
Deus and dissipentur inimici ejus : and making a cross on
his forehead and his breast, by the council of the other
bishops, he gave sentence against master Bilney, being
there present, in this manner.

"I, by the consent and counsel of my brethren here
present, do pronounce thee Thomas Bilney, who hast been
accused of divers articles, to be convicted of heresy ; and
for the rest of the sentence, we take deliberation till to-
morrow."

The fifth day of December the bishops assembled there
again; before whom Bilney was brought, whom the bishop
asked if he would yet return to the unity of the Church,
and revoke his heresies which he had preached. Where-
upon Bilney answered, " that he would not be a slander
to the gospel, trusting that he was not separate from the
Church ; and that, if the multitude of witnesses might be
credited, he might have thirty men of honest life on his
part, against one to the contrary brought in against him :"
which witnesses, the bishop said came too late; for after
publication, they could not be received by the law. Then
Bilney alleging the story of Susan and Daniel, the bishop
of London still exhorted him to return to the unity of
the Church, and to abjure his heresies, and permitted
him to go into some secret place, there to consult with
his friends, till one of the clock at the afternoon of the
same day.

At afternoon, the bishop of London again asked him
whether he would return to the Church and acknowledge
his heresies. Bilney answered, that he trusted he was
not separate from the Church, and required time and
place to bring in witnesses : which was refused. Then
vol. ii 2 m

110 BILNEY.

the bishop once again required of him whether he would
turn to the Catholic Church. Whereunto he answered,
that if they could teach and prove sufficiently that he was
convict, he would yield and submit himself, and desired
again to have time and space to bring in again his refused
witnesses ; and other answer he would give none.

Then the bishop put master Bilney aside, and took
counsel with his fellows ; and afterward calling in master
Bilney, asked him again whether he would abjure : but
he would make no other answer than before. Then the
bishop with the consent of the rest, did decree and deter-
mine that it was not lawful to hear a petition which was
against the law ; and inquiring again whether he would
abjure, he answered plainly, No, and desired to have time
to consult with his friends in whom his trust was : and
being once again asked whether he would return, and
instantly desired thereunto, or else the sentence must be
read ; he required the bishop to give him license to de-
liberate with himself until the next morrow, whether he
might abjure the heresies wherewith he was defamed, or
no. The bishop granted him that he should have a little
time to deliberate with master Dancaster ; but Bilney
required space till the next morrow, to consult with master
Farmar and master Dancaster. But the bishop would
not grant him his request, for fear lest he should appeal ;
but at the last, the bishop inclining unto him, granted
him two nights respite to deliberate : that is to say, till
Saturday at nine of the clock before noon, and then to
give a plain determinate answer, what he would do in the
premises.

The seventh day of December, in the year and place
aforesaid, the bishop of London, with the other bishops
being assembled, Bilney also personally appeared. Whom
the bishop of London asked, whether he would now
return to the unity of the Church, and revoke the
errors and heresies whereof he stood accused, detected,
and convicted. Who answered, that now he was per-

BILNEY. 411

suaded by master Dancaster and other his friends, he
would submit himself, trusting that they would deal
gently with him, both in his abjuration, and penance.
Then he desired that he might read his abjuration; which
the bishop granted. When he had read the same secretly
by himself, and was returned, being demanded what he
would do in the premises, he answered, that he would
abjure and submit himself, and there openly read his
abjuration, and subscribed it, and delivered it to the
bishop, which then did absolve him : and for his penance
enjoined him, that he should abide in the prison, ap-
pointed by the cardinal, till he were by him released :
and moreover that the next day he should go before the
procession, in the cathedral church of St Paul, bare-
headed, with a fagot on his shoulder, and should stand
before the preacher at Paul's Cross, all the sermon time.'
Bilney went back to Cambridge. His melancholy re-
turned. His misery was great. He refused to be com-
forted. He thought that he had denied Christ. His
meals were taken without appetite. The attentions of his
friends were received with apathy. He found no comfort
in religion. He viewed himself as an apostate and a
reprobate. The burden was intolerable, and he determined
to shake it off. Entering the college hall one night, he
bade farewell to certain of his friends, and told them he
had set his face to go to Jerusalem. His meaning was
soon apparent, for when he was next heard of, he was in
Norfolk, where, first among his family connexions, and
afterwards openly in the fields, he boldly preached the
doctrines he had once abjured. As he probably expected
and desired, his exertions led to his apprehension, and
being again convicted of heresy, he was sentenced to the
stake. The account of his last moments shall be taken
from Fox, who, though seldom to be depended upon,
asserts that he had " diligently searched out and procured
the true certificate of master Bilney s burning, with all the
circumstances and points thereto belonging." He tells us
that Thomas Bilney after his examination and condemna-

412 BILNEY.

tion before Dr Pelles, doctor of law and chancellor, first
was degraded by suffragan Underwood, according to the
custom of their popish manner, by the assistance of all
the friars and doctors of the same suit. Which done, he
was immediately committed to the lay power, and to the
two sheriffs of the city, of whom Thomas Necton was one.
This Thomas Necton was Bilney's special good friend,
and sorry to accept him to such execution as followed.
But such was the tyranny of that time, and dread of the
chancellor and friars, that he could no otherwise do, but
needs must receive him. Who notwithstanding, as he
could not bear in his conscience himself to be present at
his death ; so, for the time that he was in his custody, he
caused him to be more friendly looked unto, and more
wholesomely kept, concerning his diet, than he was
before.

After this, the Friday following at night, which was
before the day of his execution, being Saint Magnus day
and Saturday, the said Bilney had divers of his friends
resorting unto him in the Guildhall, where he was kept.
Amongst whom one of the said friends finding him eating
of an alebrew with such a cheerful heart and quiet mind
as he did, said, that he was glad to see him at that time,
so shortly before his heavy and painful departure, so
heartily to refresh himself. Whereunto he answered,
"Oh, said he, I follow the example of the husbandmen
of the country, who having a ruinous house to dwell in,
yet bestow cost as long as they may, to hold it up ; and so
do I now with this ruinous house of my body, and with
God's creatures in thanks to him, refresh the same as ye
see." Then sitting with his said friends in godly talk, to
their edification, some put him in mind, that though the
fire which he should suffer the next day, should be of
great heat unto his body, yet the comfort of God's Spirit
should cool it to his everlasting refreshing. At this word
the said Thomas Bilney putting his hand toward the
flame of the candle burning before them (as also he did
divers times besides) and feeling the heat thereof, " Oh,"

BILNEY. 413

(said he) "I feel by experience, and have known it long
by philosophy, 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
howsoever 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." And here he much entreated of this place
of Scripture, (Isaiah 43.) "Fear not, for I have redeemed
thee, and called thee by thy name, thou art mine own.
When thou goest through the water, I wTill be with thee,
and the strong floods shall not overflow thee. When thou
walkest in the fire, it shall not burn thee, and the flame
shall not kindle upon thee, for I am the Lord thy God,
the Holy One of Israel." Which he did most comfortably
entivat of, as well in respect of himself, as applying it to
the particular use of his friends there present, of whom
some took such sweet fruit therein, that they caused the
whole said sentence to be fair written in tables, and some
in their books. The comfort whereof (in divers of them)
was never taken from them to their dying day.

The Saturday next following, when the officers of ex-
ecution (as the manner is) with their gleaves and halberds
were ready to receive him, and to lead him to the place of
execution without the city gate, called Bishop's gate, in a
low valley, commonly called the Lollard's pit, under Saint
Leonard's hill, environed about with great hills (which
place was chosen for the people's quiet sitting to see,the
execution) at the coming forth of the said Thomas Bilney
out of the prison door, one of his friends came to him,
and with few words, as he durst, spake to him and prayed
him in God's behalf, to be constant and to take his death
as patiently as he could. Whereunto the said Bilney
answered, with a quiet and mild countenance, " Ye see
when the mariner is entered his ship to sail on the trou-
2 m 2

414 BILNEY.

blous sea, how he for a while is tossed in the billows of
the same, but yet in hope that he shall once come to the
quiet haven, he beareth in better comfort, the perils which
he feeleth : so am I now toward this sailing, and what-
soever storms I shall feel, yet shortly after shall my ship
be in the haven ; as I doubt not thereof by the grace of
God, desiring you to help me with your prayers to the
same effect."

And so he, going forth in the streets, giving much
alms by the way, by the hands of one of his friends, and
accompanied with one Dr Warner, doctor of divinity and
parson of Winterton, whom he did choose as his old
acquaintance, to be with lrim for his ghostly comfort ;
came at the last to the place of execution, and descended
down from the hill to the same, apparelled in a layman's
gown, with his sleeves hanging down, and his arms out,
his hair being piteously mangled at his degradation (a
little simple body in person, but always of a good upright
countenance) and drew near to the stake prepared, and
somewhat tarrying the preparation of the fire, he desired
that he might speak some words to the people, and there
standing, thus he said :

" Good people, I am come hither to die, and born as I
was to live under that condition, naturally to die again ;
and that ye might testify that I depart out of this present
life as a time Christian man in a right belief towards
Almighty God, I will rehearse unto you in a fast faith, the
articles of my creed ;" and then began to rehearse them in
order as they be in the common creed, with oft elevating
his eyes and hands to Almighty God ; and at the article
of Christ's incarnation, having a little meditation in him-
self, and coming to the word crucified, he humbly bowed
himself and made great reverence ; and then proceeded in
the articles, and coming to these words, I believe the
Catholic Church, there he paused and spake these words,
" Good people, I must here confess to have offended the
Church, in preaching once against the prohibition of the

BILNEY. 415

same, at a poor cure belonging to Trinity hall in Cam-
bridge, where I was fellow, earnestly entreated thereunto
by the curate and other good people of the parish, shewing
that they had no sermon there of long time before ; and
so in my conscience moved, I did make a poor collation
unto them, and thereby ran into the disobedience of
certain authority in the Church by whom I was pro-
hibited : howbeit I trust at the general day, charity that
moved me to this act, shall bear me out at the judgment
seat of God :" and so he proceeded on, without any
manner of words of recantation, or charging any man for
procuring him to his death.

This once done, he put off his gown, and went to the
stake, and kneeling upon a little ledge coming out of the
stake, whereon he should afterwards stand to be better
seen, he made his private prayer with such earnest
elevation of his eyes and hands to heaven, and in so good
quiet behaviour, that he seemed not much to consider the
terror of his death, and ended at the last his private
prayers with the 143rd psalm, beginning, Hear my
prayer 0 Lord, consider my desire : and the next verse
he repeated in deep meditation thrice : and enter not into
judgment with thy servant, for in thy sight shall no man
living be justified : and so finishing that psalm he ended
his private prayers.

After that, he turned himself to the officers, asking
them if they were ready, and they answered, yes. Where-
upon he put off his jacket and doublet, and stood in his
hose and shirt, and went unto the stake, standing upon
that ledge, and the chain was cast about him ; and stand-
ing thereon, the said doctor Warner came to him to bid
him farewell, which spake but few words for weeping.

Upon whom the said Thomas Bilney did most gently
smile, and inclined his body to speak to him a few words
of thanks, and the last were these, "0 master doctor,
pasce gregem tuum, pasce gregem tuum, ut cum veneiit,
Dominu?, inveniat te sic facientem. That is, feed your

416 BILNEY.

flock, feed your flock, that when the Lord cometh, He
may find you so doing : and farewell good master doctor,
and pray for me:" and so he departed without any answer,
sobbing and weeping.

And while he thus stood upon the ledge at the stake,
certain friars, doctors and priors of their houses being
there present (as they were uncharitably and maliciously
present at his examination and degradation,) came to him
and said ; "0 master Bilney the people be persuaded
that we be the cause of your death, and that we have
procured the same, and thereupon it is like that they
will withdraw their charitable alms from us all, except
you declare your charity towards us, and discharge us of
the matter." Whereupon the said Thomas Bilney spake
with a loud voice to the people, and said ; " I pray you
good people be never the worse to these men for my sake,
as though they should be the authors of my death ; it was
not they :" and so he ended.

Then the officers put reed and fagots about his body,
and set fire on the reed, which made a very great flame,
which sparkled and deformed the visour of his face, he
holding up his hands and knocking upon his breast,
crying sometimes Jesus, sometimes Credo. Which flame
was blown away from him by the violence of the wind,
which was that day and two or three days before notable
great, in which it was said that the fields were marvel-
lously plagued by the loss of corn: and so for a little
pause, he stood without flame, the flame departing and
recoursing thrice ere the wood took strength to be the
sharper to consume him : and then he gave up the ghost,
and his body being withered bowed downward upon the
chain. Then one of the officers with his halberd smote
out the staple in the stake behind him, and suffered his
body to fall into the bottom of the fire, laying wood on it,
and so he was consumed.

The following remarks are made by Jeremy Collier .
" Sir Thomas More is positive, that before he suffered he

BILNEY. 417

recanted in form, and received absolution and the sacra-
ment from the bishop's clergy. Fox denies this recanta-
tion, and endeavours to disprove More : but then he
writes out of his talent, and rallies somewhat untowardly.
He charges this gentleman, then lord chancellor, with
iosincerity ; but gives up the main cause. He sup-
poses Bilney's receiving absolution, and confessing his
sins to one of the bishop's priests, does not imply the
retracting his former opinions. But here it must be
granted, Fox fails in his reasoning : for when a person is
charged with heresy, and prosecuted to proof, it was never
the custom of any church to absolve him without a
previous recantation.

" Fox goes farther in his concessions : he supposes
Bilney might hear mass, and receive the sacrament in the
church of Rome, without recanting his tenets. Nay, he
believes he did receive the sacrament. This acknowledg-
ment makes all Fox's conjectures insignificant, and
destroys the force of his counter evidence. For we may
be assured,, he would never have been admitted to the
holy Eucharist, had he not been reconciled to their com-
munion. But he has one remark upon sir Thomas
Mores narrative, which has more weight in it : and here
he puts somewhat of a hard question. Why did they
burn him after his recantation ? By going this length,
he was no heretic; why then should he suffer the penalties
of heresy? But then Fox's saying this was only an
ecclesiastical law, is a mistake. For by act of parlia-
ment, those who relapsed into heresy were to be burned
in terrorem. Thus it may be the Church could not help
it ; and therefore the rigour of the execution must be
thrown upon the state. It is true, some casuists affirm,
that it is in the power of the spiritual court to wink at
the proof of a person thus prosecuted, and not pronounce
him relapsed. And here the canon lawyers are almost at
a loss ; some affirm, that the ecclesiastical judge is under
no necessity of putting a heretic relapsed into the hands
of the secular magistrate, and that he may mitigate

418 BILSOX.

the rigour of this punishment, and commute it to per-
petual confinement in the Bishop's prison. But then
there must be some colour of defect in the evidence, to
make way for this favour : for when the proof is clear and
demonstrative against the criminal, it is not in the
Church's power to preserve him." — Fox. Wordsworth.
Soames. Strype. Collier.

Bilson, Thomas, was born at Winchester, 1547, being
of German descent. He was educated at Winchester
college, and was elected to New college in 1565. In 1570
he took his M.A. degree, and then returned to Winchester
as head-master. Winchester school under Bilson main-
tained that high character which it has ever supported since
the days of its founder, William of Wykeham ; and by
the fellows of the college he was in due time elected their
warden. The comparative leisure he enjoyed as warden,
though he still superintended the discipline of the school,
was employed by Bilson in laying up those stores of sound
divinity, which have secured for him a prominent place
among English theologians. " From schoolmaster of
Winchester," says sir John Harrington, " he became
warden ; and having been infinitely studious and iudus-
trious in poetry, in philosophy, in physic, and lastly
(which his genius chiefly called him to) in divinity, he
became so complete for skill in languages, for readiness
in the fathers, for judgment to make use of his readings,
that he was found to be no longer a soldier, but a com-
mander-in-chief in our spiritual warfare ;" — " especially
when he became a bishop," adds Anthony Wood, " and
carried prelature in his very aspect."

In 1585 he published "The True Difference between
Christian Subjection and Unchristian Rebellion :" in
this work his zeal to defend queen Elizabeth involved
him in an inconsistency, for while he maintained her
cause against the papists who were plotting against the
throne ; he also defended her own interference in the
Low Countries, to save the protestant population from

BILSON. 419

sinking under the power of their old master the king of
Spain : nevertheless the work is one of very considerable
value, as shewing the course pursued by our reformers,
(and Bilson may almost be reckoned among them himself)
against Romanists on the one hand, and ultra-protestants
on the other. We give as a specimen, his protest against
the adoption of the title of catholic, by the Roman
church : —

Philander. (Romanist.) What one point of our religion
is not catholic ?

Theophilus. (Anglican.) No one point of that, which
this realm hath refused, is truly catholic. Your having
and adoring of images in the church : your public service
in a tongue not understood of the people : your gazing on
the priest while he alone eatethand drinketh at the Lord's
table : your barring the people from the Lord's cup : your
sacrificing the Son of God to His Father for the sins of
the world : your adoring the elements of bread and wine
with Divine honour instead of Christ : your seven sacra-
ments . your shrift : your releasing souls out of purga-
tory by prayers and pardons : your compelling priests to
live single : your meritorious vowing and performing pil-
grimages : your invocation of saints departed : your rules
of perfection for monks and friars : your relying on the
pope as head of the Church, and vicar-general unto
Christ : these with infinite other superstitions in action,
and errors in doctrine, we deny to have any foundation in
the Scriptures, or confirmation in the general consent or
use of the catholic Church.

Phi. We stick not on your words, which you utter to
your most advantage : but be not these things as we
defend them, and you reject them, catholic?

Theo. Nothing less.

Phi. What count you catholic ?

Theo. You were best define that : it tou chest you
nearest.

Phi. I mean catholic, as Vincentius doth, that wrote
more than one thousand one hundred years ago.

420 BILSON.

Theo. So do I. And in that sense no point of your
religion, which this realm hath refused, is catholic.

Phi. All.

Theo. None.

Phi. These are but brag.

Theo. Indeed they are so. Nothing is more com-
mon in your mouths than catholic : and in your faith
nothing less.

Phi. Who proveth that ?

Theo. Yourselves, who after you have made great stir
for catholic, catholic, and all catholic, when you come to
issue, you return it with a non est inventus.

Phi. Will you lie a little ?

Theo. I might use that sometimes, which is so often
with you : but in this I do not.

Phi. I say you do.

Theo. That will appear, if you take any of those points
which I have rehearsed.

Phi. Which you will.

Theo. Nay, the choice shall be yours, because the proof
must be yours.

Phi. Take them as they lie. Having and worshipping
of images in the church, is it not catholic ?

Theo. It is not.

Phi. Eight hundred years ago the general council of
Nice, the second, decreed it lawful, and ever since it hath
been used.

Theo. Catholic should have four conditions by Vincen-
tius' rule, and this hath not one of them. There can
nothing be catholic, unless it be confirmed two ways :
first by the authority of God's law, and next by the
tradition of the catholic Church ; not that the canon of
Scripture is not perfect and sufficient enough for all points
of faith, but because many men draw and stretch the
Scriptures to their fancies, therefore it is very needful
that the line of the prophetical and apostolical interpreta-
tion should be directed by the rule of the ecclesiastical
and catholic sense. Now in the catholic Church herself

BILSON. m

we must take heed we hold that which hath been believed

at all lames, in all places, o( all persons, for that is truly
ami properly catholic

" By this rule your erecting ami adoring of images in
the Church is not catholic For first, it is prohibited by

Gods law: ami where the text goeth against you, the
gloss cannot help you. If there be no precept for it in
the word ofGod, in vain do you seek in the Church for
the catholic sense ami interpretation of that which is
nowhere found in the Scriptures. If it be not prophetical
nor apostolical, it cannot he catholic nor ecclesiastical;

"Again, how hath this been always in the Church, which

was first decreed seven hundred and eighty years after

Christ ° It is too young to bo catholic that began so
late ; you must go nearer Christ ami His apostles, if you
will have it catholic or ancient.

"Thirdly; all places ami persons did not admit the
decrees of that council. For besides Africa, and A.SJ8 the

greater, which never received them, the churches of Eng-
land, France, and (iermany did contradict and refute both
their actions and reasons. And in Greece itself not long

before, a synod of ••>;>(> bishops at Constantinople
demned as well the Buffering as reverencing of baaaj

Again, on the eucharistic sacrifice, Philander assorts,
" all the fathers with one consent stand on our side for
the sacrifice," and Theophilus replies, " You be now
where you would be; and where the fathers seem to lit
your feet. But if your sacrifice be convinced to be
nothing less than catholic or oonsequenl to the prophets',
apostles', or fathers' doc-trine, what Bay you then to your
vanity in alleging, if not impiety in abusing, so many
fathers and Scriptures to prop up your follies ? . . . Let

it therefore first appear what they teach touching the
sacrifice of the Lord's table, and what we admit : ami then
it will soon be seen which of us twain hath departed from
them. The fathers with one cons, nt call not your private
that they never knew, but the Lord's Snpper, a

VOL. II.

4-2-2 BILSON.

sacrifice, which we both willing! y grant and openly teach :
so their text, not your gloss may prevail. For there,
besides the sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving, which we
must then offer to God for our redemption and other His
graces bestowed on us in Christ His Son : besides the
dedication of our souls and bodies to be a reasonable,
quick, and holy sacrifice to serve and please Him : besides
the contributions and alms there given in the primitive
church for the relief of the poor and other good uses. — a
sacrifice no doubt very acceptable to God : I say besides
these three sundry sorts of offerings incident to the Lord's
table, the very Supper itself is a public memorial of that
great and dreadful sacrifice, I mean, of the death and
blood- shedding of our Saviour."

It was in the year 1593 that Bilson published his great
work, the ablest and most complete ever published on the
apostolical succession and the doctrine of episcopacy,
under the title of " The Perpetual Government of Christ's
Church." It is a work valuable in itself, and peculiarly
valuable in these days, when these great truths are spoken
of as if they were modern innovations. This, indeed,
Bilson himself refutes, as it is on the ground of antiquity
as well as of Scripture that he maintains them. The
work is also useful in shewing how those who immediately
succeeded the first reformers, and who, for the alterations
they made in the Prayer Book in the reign of James I.,
may be called reformers themselves, deferred to the
fathers, and called in the aid of tradition, in order to
interpret the Scriptures rightly. As a specimen of this
work we may quote the commencement of chap. xiii.

>; Before I demonstrate the vocation and function of
bishops to be apostolic, the ambiguity of the name of
bishop, and community of many things incident and ap-
pertinent both to bishops and presbyters, urge me to lay
down and deliver certain peculiar marks and parts of the
bishop's power and office, whereby they are always distin-
guished from presbyters, and never confounded with them

BILSON. 423

either in Scriptures, councils, or fathers. Prerogatives
there were many appropriate unto them by the authority
of the canons and custom of the Church : as, reconciling of
penitents, confirmation of infants and others that were
baptized by laying on their hands, dedication of churches.
and such like ; but these tended as Jerome saith, " to the
honour of their priesthood rather than to the necessity of
any law." The things proper to bishops, which might
not be common to presbyters, were singularity in succeed-
ing and superiority in ordaining. These two, the Scrip-
tures and fathers reserve only to bishops ; they never
communicate them unto presbyters. In every church and
city there might be many presbyters ; there could be but
one chief to govern the rest: the presbyters for need
might impose hands on penitents and infants ; but by no
means might they ordain bishops or ministers of the
word and sacraments.

"Neither are these, trifling differences, or devised by me.
The external unity and perpetuity of the Church depend
wholly on these. As to avoid schisms, bishops were first
appointed ; so to maintain the churches in unity, the sin-
gularity of one pastor over each flock is commended in the
Scriptures. And as bishops preserve the unity of each
church, in that there may be but one in a place, so they
contiuue the same unto perennity, by ordaining such as
shall both help them living and succeed them dying."'

He then establishes his position by references to St
Cyprian and other fathers at considerable length, and
proceeds : — " This is a certain rule to distinguish bishops
from presbyters; the presbyters were many in every church,
of whom the presbytery consisted. Bishops were always
singular ; that is, one in a city and no more, except ano-
ther intruded, (which the Church of Christ counted a
schism, and would never communicate with any such ;) or
else an helper were given in respect of extreme and feeble
age ; in which case, the power of the latter ceased in the
presence of the former. And this singularity of one pas-
tor in each place descended from the apostles and their

4->4 BILSON.

scholars in all the famous churches of the world, by a per-
petual chair of succession, and doth to this day continue,
but where abomination or desolation, 1 mean heresy or
violence, interrupt it. Of this there is so perfect record
in all the stories and fathers of the Church, that I much
muse with what face men that have any taste of learning
can deny the vocation of bishops came from the apostles.
For if their succession be apostolic, their function cannot
choose but be likewise apostolic ; and that they succeeded
the apostles and evangelists in their churches and chairs,
may inevitably be proved, if any Christian persons or
churches deserve to be credited.

" The second assured sign of episcopal power, is impo-
sition of hands to ordain presbyters and bishops ; for as
pastors were to have some to assist them in their charge,
which were presbyters, so were they to have others to suc-
ceed them in their places which were bishops. And this
right by imposing hands to ordain presbyters and bishops
in the Church of Christ, was first derived from the
apostles unto bishops, and not unto presbyters ; and hath
for these fifteen hundred years, without example or in-
stance to the contrary, till this our age, remained in
bishops and not in presbyters. Philip ' preached and
baptized' at Samaria ; but he could not give the graces of
the Holy Ghost by imposition of hands to make fit pastors
and teachers for the work of the ministry ; the apostles
were forced to come from Jerusalem to furnish the church
of Samaria with meet men to labour in the word and
doctrine. The like we find by Paul and Barnabas in the
Acts ; who visited the churches where they had preached,
and supplied them " with presbyters" in every place that
wanted. Paul left Titus to do the like in Crete ; and
Timothy was sent to Ephesus to impose hands, notwith-
standing the church there had presbyters long before.
Jerome, where he stretcheth the presbyter's office to the
uttermost, of purpose to shew that he may do by the word
of God as much as the bishop, excepteth this one point
as unlawful for presbyters by the Scriptures: ' What

BILSOX. 42S

doth a bishop, save ordination, which a presbyter may not
do ?' He saith not, What doth a bishop, which a pres-
byter doth not ? for by the custom and canons of the
CKurch, very many things were forbidden presbyters,
which by God's word they might do ; but he appealeth to
God's ordinance, which in his commentaries upon Titus
he calleth the 'divine institution;' and by that he con-
fesseth it was not lawful for presbyters to ordain any.
And why ? That power was reserved to the apostles, and
such as succeeded them, not generally in the Church, but
specially in the chair."

He again refers to the fathers at considerable length,
and remarks with reference to Epiphanius, " I can see no
cause why some writers in our days should discredit the
report and reason, which Epiphanius maketh against
Aerius, that a presbyter could not be equal with a bishop ;
forsomuch as the order of bishops ' engendered! fathers
unto the Church ;' and the order of presbyters, ' not able
to beget fathers, by the regeneration of baptism begetteth
children unto the Church, but not fathers or teachers, and
so no possibility to make a presbyter that hath not received
power to impose hands, equal with a bishop. For what
doth Epiphanius avouch in these words, which Athanasius.
Jerome, Chrysostom, and Ambrose do not likewise avouch ?
or what saith he more than the primitive church in her
general and provincial councils decreed against Colluthus,
Ataxinius, and others; and observed without alteration
ever since the apostles died ? If we reject this assertion
of Epiphanius, that only bishops should impose hands
to ordain, arid not presbyters, wTe reject the whole Church
of Christ, which interpreted the Scriptures in this be-
half as Epiphanius did; and confirmed the very same
resolution with the continual practice of all ages and
countries where the gospel hath been preached and be-
lieved : for by power to ordain, the Christian world hath
always distinguished bishops from presbyters, as it is
easy to be seen by all the monuments of antiquity that
2 n9

426

BILSON.

are extant to this day, either of councils, stories, or
fathers."

As some readers feel, an interest in knowing who were
the first successors of the apostles, we shall lengthen our
quotations by the following extract :

" Eusebius, the first and best collector of ancient and
ecclesiastical monuments (Egesippus and Clemens being
lost), deriveth the successions of bishops in the four prin-
cipal churches of the world, Jerusalem, Antioch, Rome,
and Alexandria, from the apostles' age unto his own time :
by which, as by a line, we may be directed to see what
manner of episcopal successions the rest of the churches
had ; and from whom the first original of bishops des-
cended. I will set them down as it were in a table even
from the apostles and their followers, unto the time they
met in the great council of Nice, about 320 years after
Christ.

"In the Church of

Jerusalem.

Antioch.

Rome.

Alexandria.

James the apostle

Peter the apostle

Peter and Paul

Mark the evangelist

Simeon

Euodius

Linus

Anianus

J ustus

Ignatius

Anacletus

Abilius

Zaeheus

Heros

Clemens

Cerdo

Tobias

Cornelius

Evaristus

Primus

Benjamin

Eros

Alexander

Justus

Johannes

Theophilus

Sixtus

Eumeues

Mathias

Maxiniinus

Thelesphorus

Marcus

Pbilippus

Serapion

Higinus

Celadion

Sennecas

Asclepiades

Pius

Agrippas

Justus

Philetos

Anicetus

Julianus

Levi

Zebinus

Soter

Demetrius

Ephrem

Babilas

Eleutberius

Heraclas

Joseph

Eabius

Victor

Dionysius

Judas

Demetrius

Zepherinus

Maximus

Marcus

Paulus Samosatenus

Calixtus

Theonas

Cassianus

Domuus

Urbanus

Petrus

Fublius

Timeus

Pontianus

Achilles

Maximus

Cyrillus

Anterus

Alexander

J ulianus

Tyrannus

Fabianus

Atlianasius

BILSON.

4$

" In the

Church of

Jerusalem.

Antioch.

Rome.

Alexandria.

Caius

Vitalius

Cornelius

Petrus

Symmachus

Philagonius

Lucius

Timothius

Caius

Eustathius

Stephanus

Theophilus

Julianus

Paulinus and Miletius Xistus Dionysius

Cyrillus.''

Capita

Flavianus

Felix

Maxim us

Porphyrius

Eutichianus

Antoninus

Alexander

Caius

Valens

Johannes''

Marcellinus

Dolichiauus

Marcellus

Narcissus

Eusebius

Dius

Meltiades

Germanion

Sylvester

Gordius

Marcus

Narcissus iterum

Julius

Alexander

Liberius

Mazabanes

Damasus

Hymeneus

Siricius

Zambdas

Anastasius"

Hermon

Macarius

Maximus

Cyrillus

Johannes

Juvenalis"

He substantiates all these assertions by reference to the
early writers, and sums up by saying, " if Christian writers
may deserve credit with us, we have the sincerest and
eldest clearly witnessing and confirming unto us, that the
apostles when they saw their time approaching, placed of
their scholars and followers one in every church (which they
planted) to be bishop and pastor of the place; and that
the successions of bishops so placed by the apostles, en-
dured in all the apostolic churches even to the times that
they wrote and testified thus much. Neither speak they
of these things by hearsay; they lived with the apostles'
scholars, and received from their mouths the things which
they witness to posterity; and their successors in most
churches they saw with their eyes, and conferred with
them. Irenreus, that in his youth was Polycarp's scholar,

428 BILSON.

saith : "We can reckon those which were ordained bishops
in the churches by the apostles and their successors even
to our age. If the apostles had known any hid mysteries,
which they taught to the perfect, secretly and apart from
the rest, they would most of all have delivered those
things to such as they committed the churches unto. For
they greatly desired to have them perfect and unreprov-
able in all things, whom they left to be their successors,
delivering unto them their own place of teaching.' Egesip-
pus lived at the same time somewhat elder than IrenEeus.
and travelling to Rome under Anicetus, he conferred with
Primus, bishop of Corinth, and divers other bishops as he
went, and found them all agreeing in one and the same
doctrine."

If the reader desires to find an answer to almost
every objection urged by the ignorant against these
doctrines at the present day, they will find it in the
concluding portion of this chapter of the Perpetual
Government

While Bilson was warden of Winchester he obtained a
stall in the cathedral church : he was also consecrated
to the see of Worcester in 1596. But his separation from
Winchester was not of long continuance, for to the see of
Winton he was translated the following year. While
bishop of Winchester he was involved in some controversy
by his denunciation, when preaching at St Paul's cross in
1597, of certain calvmistic heresies ; but more particularly
by his declining to defer to the opinions of such men as
Calvin and Beza, or any other foreign divine. An ac-
count of the controversy may be found in Strype's life of
archbishop Whitgift.

At the commencement of the reign of James I, bishop
Bilson was one of the managers of the conference at
Hampton court, and though he did not speak much, yet
what he said was to the point. The discussion on the
subject of lay-baptism, which was at that time sanctioned
by the church of England, and objected to, it may be

BILSON. 429

supposed for the mere sake of objecting by the puritans,
was opened by archbishop Whitgift.

The following is Barlow's account : " The lord arch-
bishop proceeded to speak of private baptism ; shewing his
majesty, that the administration of baptism by women and
lay-persons was not allowed in the practice of the Church,
but enquired of by bishops in their visitation, and censured ;
neither do the words in the book infer any such meaning.
Whereunto the king excepted, urging and pressing the
wrords of the book, that they could not but intend a
permission, and suffering of women and private persons to
baptize. Here the bishop of Worcester said, that indeed
the words were doubtful, and might be pressed to that
meaning ; but yet it seemed by the contrary practice of
of our church (censuring women in this case) that the
compilers of the book did not so intend them, and yet
propounded them ambiguously, because otherwise perhaps
the book would not have then passed in the parliament,
(and for this conjecture, as I remember, he cited the
testimony of my lord archbishop of York) whereunto the
bishop of London replied, that those learned and reverend
men, who framed the book of common prayer, intended
not by ambiguous terms to deceive any, but did indeed
by those words intend a permission of private persons to
baptize, in case of necessity, whereof their letters were
witnesses : some parts whereof he then read, and withal
declared that the same was agreeable to the practice of
the ancient Church ; urging to that purpose, both Acts ii,
where three thousand were baptized on one day, which
for the apostles alone to do, was impossible, at least im-
probable ; and besides the apostles, there were then no
bishops or priests : and also the authority of Tertullian,
and St Ambrose in the fourth to the Ephesians, plain in
that point ; laying also open the absurdities and impieties
of their opinion, who think there is no necessity of bap-
tism. Which word necessity, he so pressed not, as if
God without baptism could not save the child : but the
case put, that the state of the infant dying unbaptized

430 BILSON.

being uncertain, and to God only known ; but if it die
baptized, there is an evident assurance that it is saved :
who is he that having any religion in him, would not
speedily, by any means, procure his child to be baptized,
and rather ground his action upon Christ's promise, than
his omission thereof upon Gods secret judgment.

" His majesty replied, first to that place of the Acts,
'that it was an act extraordinary, neither is it sound
reasoning from things done before a church be settled
and grounded, unto those which are to be performed in a
church established and flourishing. That he also main-
tained the necessity of baptism, and always thought, that
the place of St John, Nisi quis renatus merit ex aqua, &c.
was meant of the Sacrament of Baptism, and that he had
so defended it against some ministers in Scotland. And
it may seem strange to you, my lord, said his majesty,
that I, who now think you in England give too much to
baptism, did fourteen months ago in Scotland argue with
my divines there for ascribing too little to that Holy
Sacrament : insomuch that a pert minister asked me, if I
thought baptism so necessary, that if it were omitted, the
child should be damned : I answered him, No ; but if
you, being called to baptize the child, though privately,
should refuse to come, I think you shall be damned.'
But this necessity of baptism his majesty so expounded
that it was necessary to be had where it might be law-
fully had, id est, ministered by lawful ministers, by whom
alone, and by no private person, he thought it might in
any case be administered ; and yet utterly disliked all re-
baptization, although either women or laics had baptized."

Here the bishop of Winchester spake very learnedly
and earnestly on that point, affirming, that the denying
of private persons, in case of necessity, to baptize, were to
cross all antiquity ; seeing that it had been the ancient
and common practice of the Church, when ministers at
such times could not be got, and that it was also a rule
agreed upon among divines, that the minister is not of the
essence of the sacrament. His majesty answered, "though

BIXGHAM. 431

he be not of the essence of the sacrament, yet is he of the
essence of the light and lawful ministry of the sacrament,
taking for his ground the commission of Christ to His
disciples, (Mat. xxviii. 20,) Go preach and baptize.''

The issue was a consultation, whether into the rubric
of private baptism, which leaves it indifferently to all
laics or clergy, the words, curate or lawful minister, might
not be inserted ; which, says Barlow, "was not so much
stuck at" by the bishops.

When the discussion upon the Apocrypha took place,
we are told, " the bishop of Winton remembered the dis-
tinction of St Jerome ; Canonici sunt ad informandos
mores, non ad confirmandam fidem; which distinction, he
said, must be held for the justifying of sundry councils."

He was appointed, with Dr Miles Smith, bishop of
Gloucester, to add the last hand in the translation of the
Bible commanded by James I, and now known as the
authorized version. At length, says Anthony Wood, who
remarks that he "carried prelature in his very aspect,"
after he had gone through many employments, and had
lived in continual drudgery as it were, for the public
good, he surrendered up his pious soul to God, June 18th,
1616, and was buried on the south side of Westminster
abbey.

Besides the works referred to above, he published " The
full Redemption of Mankind by the Death and Blood of
Christ Jesus;" and a " Survey of Christ's Sufferings and
Descent into Hell." An edition of " The Perpetual
Government of Christ's Church," was published at the
university press of Oxford, in the year 1842.

The authorities for this article are Bilson's own works.
Wood. Strype.

Bingham, Joseph. Of this distinguished scholar and
divine, to whom every student of divinity in the Eng-
lish church is so deeply indebted, and none more
deeply than the author of the present article, very little
is known. He was born in 1668 ; Wakefield has the

432 BINGHAM.

honour of having been his birth place, and at the school
of Wakefield, (now presided over by the Rev Dr Carter,)
where several distinguished scholars have been educated,
he received the first rudiments of learning. He was
admitted a member of university college in Oxford in
the year 1684, took the degree of B.A. in 1688, being
elected in the following July fellow of his college, and
taking his M.A. degree in 1691. At this time he was
made college tutor, and gave the first turn to the thoughts
of one who afterwards became an eminent divine, John
Potter, eventually archbishop of Canterbury. The atten-
tion of Bingham had been already directed to ecclesiastical
antiquity, and his spirit was stirred up within him when
he heard certain erroneous doctrines, with reference to the
Holy Trinity, propounded in the university pulpit. He
determined, when his own turn came to preach at St
Mary's, to state exactly the meaning of the terms bwxux.
and substantia, as used by the fathers. The opposite
side had been advocated by a preacher of considerable
influence in the university, and the heads of houses, the
majority of whom were too much overwhelmed by the
multiplicity of their important duties, to pay much
attention to theology, were sorely perplexed how to
decide. But the hebdomadal board decided at last to
censure Bingham, and to defend the heterodox side. The
sermon was preached on the 28th of October, 1695, and the
venal press, uniting with the heads of houses, and bringing
against Bingham charges of Arianism and Tritheism, he
found himself under the necessity of resigning his fel-
lowship and retiring from Oxford on the 23rd of the fol-
lowing October. Thus did the vice-chancellor and the heads
of houses in Oxford, drive from the university one of
the greatest ornaments and most eminent divines of the
church of England. Although there is no doubt of the
facts being as they have just been stated, yet it is satis-
factory to know that no record of this conduct on the part
of the heterodox heads of houses remains in the books of
the universitv.

BINGHAM. 433

Bingham was not left destitute. The celebrated Dr
Radcliffe presented him, without solicitation, upon his
resigning his fellowship, with the rectory of Headbourn-
Worthy, in Hampshire, then valued at about £100 a
year.

On the 12th of May, 1696, he was appointed to preach
the visitation sermon in Winchester cathedral, in which,
pursuing* the subject which had excited so much clamour
in Oxford, he introduced a vindication of himself, ad-
mitting that if there had been any truth in the charges
brought against him, they were " enough to give all wise
and sober men a just abhorrence" of his opinions. He
was now among hard working parish priests, who could
judge of his merits without partiality, and they recognized
the orthodoxy of the ex-fellow, who was appointed to
preach again at the visitation held in September, 1697.
On this occasion he concluded his argument, and prepared
the two visitation sermons, together with the Oxford
sermon, for the press, with prefaces in vindication of
himself. The sermons, however, were never printed till
the last edition of Bingham's works, published by his
great-grandson, in 1829.

About six or seven years after his residence at Head-
bourn- Worthy, he married a daughter of the Rev Richard
Pococke, rector of Colmere, in Hampshire, by whom he
had ten children. But the heavy burthen of a family, and
a very small income, did not daunt the noble spirit, of
Joseph Bingham. He commenced his immortal work,
" The Origines Ecclesiastical, or the Antiquities of the
Christian Church." On various particular points of
ChristiaD antiquity, learned works had been published :
Bingham determined to arrange the whole in one work ;
and he himself gives us an account of some of the
difficulties with which he had to contend: "I confess,"
he says, "that this work will suffer something in my
hands for want of several books, which I have no oppor-
tunity to see, nor ability to purchase. The chief assist-

VOL. 11. . 2 u

434 BINGHAM.

ance I have hitherto had, is from the noble benefaction
of one, who being dead, yet speaketh, I mean the renowDed
bishop Morley," (who filled the see of Winchester from
1662 to 1684,) " whose memory will ever remain fresh
in the hearts of the learned and the good ; who, among
other works of charity and generosity becoming his
great soul and high station in the Church, such as the
augmentation of several small benefices, and provision
of a decent habitation and maintenance for the widows of
poor clergymen in his diocese, has also bequeathed a very
valuable collection of books to the church of Winchester,
for the advancement of learning among the parochial
clergy ; and I reckon it none of the least parts of my hap-
piness, that Providence, removing me so early from the
university, where the best supplies of learning are to be
had, placed me by the hands of a generous benefactor (Dr
Radcliffe), without any importunity or seeking of my own,
in such a station as gives me liberty and opportunity to
make use of so good a library, though not so perfect as I
could wish."

The author of this volume may be permitted here also
to record his gratitude to bishop Morley, as it was from
that library that he borrowed the books with which he
commenced his theological studies. He remembers the
pleasure with which, from the study of Bingham's in-
valuable work, he proceeded to handle the very volumes
which had passed through the hands of one to whom
he felt so deeply indebted.

The first volume of the Origines Ecclesiastics was pub-
lished in 1703, and the author proceeded regularly with
the publication of it until, in 1722, he committed the
tenth and last volume to the press. The work is the pos-
session of the Church catholic, while the honour of ha\ ing
produced it belongs to the church of England. It would
be well if every young clergyman would commence his
theological studies by an attentive perusal of it ; and
most important does the study of this work become at a

BINGHAM. 435

time when there is a tendency to confound medieval
with primitive divinity.

The patrons of ecclesiastical preferment are unjustly
blamed for not having taken earlier notice of Bingham.
We naturally feel a wish that so learned and so good a
man, one of the brightest ornaments of our church, and
one of the most useful writers in Christendom, had been
saved the cares which could not fail sometimes to disturb
his studies, and had possessed the means of supplying
himself with the books he required. One regrets the
waste of time, when it is stated of Bingham, that he
frequently procured imperfect copies of books that he
wanted, at a cheap rate, and then employed a part of that
time, of which so small a portion was allotted to him, in
the tedious work of transcribing the deficient pages. But
it is to be remembered that patrons could not reward
merit until it was displayed : he was not to be rewarded
until his work was completed. The heads of houses had
thrown suspicion upon his character, not in malice, but in
ignorance : when his great work first appeared, we may
imagine many a wise head shaken, as if to say, " Wait
awhile, and see what will come of it." As the work
advanced he began to be noticed, but such kind of prefer-
ment as was fitting for a man of learning cannot be at once
provided. A large parish was not the appropriate sphere
of duty for Bingham. If he had been appointed to a
bishopric he would not have had leisure for his great
work, and he would have been one of those many prelates
who, though they have laboured well in their respective
offices, and have done their duty, by the very fact of their
doing what their hands found to do with all their might,
have left no work by which their names are known to
posterity. When Bingham's character was established
he found a patron in sir Jonathan Trelawny, bishop of
Winchester, his diocesan, who collated him to the rectory
of Havant in 171-2. And here, the income derived from
his works being also taken into consideration, the narrow-
ness of his circumstances was removed, and he was begin-

430 BINGHAM.

ning to luxuriate in books, without injuring his family ;
but, unknowing in the ways of the world, like most of his
neighbours, he ventured to speculate, and, in 1720, lost
nearly the whole of his hard-earned savings, by the bursting
of the well known South-Sea bubble.

In the successor of sir Jonathan Trelawny, bishop
Trimnell, Bingham also found a patron. The bishop
signified his intention to confer upon him the first vacant
prebend in Winchester cathedral, and when his lordship
perceived that Bingham's health was declining, he offered
to make such provision, with respect to the living of
Havant, as would enable his son eventually to hold it.

But Bingham was short lived ; he died in the 55th
year of his age, August 17th, 1723, and was buried in
the church yard of Headbourn- Worthy.

Owing to the misfortunes of his latter years, his family
was ill provided for, and his wife, who was admitted into
the widows' college at Bromley in Kent, sold his writings
to the booksellers, who, in 1726, published an edition of
them in two volumes, folio. x\n edition in octavo has
recently been published by the author's great-grandson,
with the corrections of Bingham himself, and with some
additions. The " Origines" was translated into Latin by
Grischovius, of Halle, in Germany, and published in
eleven vols, 4to, 1723-38, and the translation was re-
printed in 1751-61.

His other works are, "The French church's Apology for
the church of England, or the objections of dissenters
against the articles, homilies, liturgy, and canons of the
English church, considered, and answered upon the
principles of the reformed church of France. A work
chiefly extracted out of the authentic acts and decrees of
the French national synods, and the most approved
writers of that church. London, 1706, 8vo."

" Scholastic history of the practice of the church in
reference to the administration of baptism by laymen:
wherein an account is given of the practice of the primi-
tive church, the practice of the modern Greek church,

BIXGHAM. 43*

and the practice of the churches of the reformation. With
an appendix, containing some remarks on the historical
part of Mr Lawrence's writings, touching the invalidity of
lay-baptism, his preliminary discourse of the various
opinions of the fathers, concerning re-baptization and
invalid baptisms, and his discourse of sacerdotal powers.
Part I. Lond. 1712, 8vo."

" A scholastical history of lay-baptism. Part II. With

some considerations on Dr Brett's and Mr L s

answer to the first part. London, 8vo. To which is
prefixed, the state of the present controversy ; and at the
end there is an appendix, containing some remarks on
the author of the second part of lay-baptism invalid.'-

He published likewise, " A discourse concerning the
mercy of God to penitent sinners ; intended for the use of
persons troubled in mind." Being a sermon on psalm
ciii. 13." It was printed singly at first, and reprinted
among the rest of his works, in two vols, folio. London.
1725.

The following may be given as a specimen, not only of
his style, but also of his principles :

"If it be now inquired what articles of faith, and what
points of practice were reckoned thus fundamental, or
essential to the very being of a Christian, and the union
of many Christians into one body or Church, the ancients
are very plain in resolving this. For as to fundamental
articles of faith, the Church had them always collected or
summed up out of Scripture in her creeds, the profes-
sion of which was ever esteemed both necessary on the
one hand and sufficient on the other, in order to the ad-
mission of members into the Church by baptism ; and
consequently both necessary and sufficient to keep men in
the unity of the Church, so far as concerns the unity of
faith generally required of all Christians, to make them
one body and one Church of believers. Upon this account,
as I have had occasion to shew in a former book, the creed
v as commonly called by the ancients the avwv*, and Betjida
2o2

438 BINGHAM.

Fidel, because it was the known standard or rule of faith,
by which orthodoxy and heresy were judged and examined.
If a man adhered to this rule he was deemed an orthodox
Christian, and in the union of the catholic faith ; but if
he deviated from it in any point, he was esteemed as one
that cut himself off, and separated from the communion
of the Church, 'by entertaining heretical opinions and
deserting the common faith. Thus the fathers in the
council of Antioch charge Paulus Samosatensis with de-
parting from the rule of canon, meaning the creed, the
rule of faith, because he denied the divinity of Christ.
Iremeus calls it the unalterable canon or rule of faith,
and says, This faith was the same in all the world ; men
professed it with one heart and One soul : for though there
were different dialects in the world, yet the power of faith
was one and the same. The churches in Germany had
no other faith or tradition than those in Spain, or in
France, or in the East, or Egypt, or Libya. Nor did the
most eloquent ruler of the Church say any more than this,
for no one was above his master, nor the weakest diminish
any thing of this tradition. For the faith being one and
the same, he that said most of it could not enlarge it, nor
he that said least, take any thing from it. So Tertullian
says, There is one rule of faith only, which admits of no
change or alteration, ' That which teaches us to believe in
in one God Almighty, the Maker of the world, and in
Jesus Christ His Son, &c.' This rule, he says, was insti-
stuted by Christ Himself, and there were no disputes in
the Church about it, but such as heretics brought in, or
such as made heretics ; to know nothing beyond this, was
to know all things. This faith was the rule of believing
from the beginning of the gospel, and the antiquity of it
was sufficiently demonstrated by the novelty of heresies,
which were but of yesterday's standing in comparison of
it. Cyprian says, It was the law which the whole Catholic
Church held, and that the Novatians themselves baptized
into the same creed, though they differed about the sense

BINGHAM. 439

of the article relating to the Church. Therefore Xovatian
in his hook of the Trinity makes no scrapie to give the
creed the same name, Begula Yeritatis, the rule of truth.
And St Jerome after the same manner, disputing against
the errors of the Montanists, says, The first thing they
differed about was the rule of faith. For the Church
believed the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, to be each
distinct in his own person, though united in substance.
But the Montanists, following the doctrine of Sabellius,
contracted the Trinity into one Person. From all which
it is evident, that the fundamental articles of faith were
those which the primitive Church summed up in her
creeds, in the profession of which she admitted men as
members into the unity of her body by baptism ; and if
any deserted or corrupted this faith, they were no longer
reputed Christians, but heretics, who break the unity of
the Church by breaking the unity of the faith, though
they had otherwise made no farther separation from her
communion. For as Clemens Alexandrinus says, out of
Hermes Pastor, faith is the virtue that binds and unites
the Church together. Whence Hegesippus, the ancient
historian, giviDg an account of the old heretics, says, They
divided the unity of the Church by pernicious speeches
against God and His Christ ; that is, by denying some of
the prime, fundamental articles of faith. He that makes
a breach upon any one of these, cannot maintain the
unity of the Church, nor his own character as a Christian.
"We ought therefore, says Cyprian, in all things to hold
the unity of the catholic Church, and not to yield in any
thing to the enemies of faith and truth. For he cannot
be thought a Christian who continues not in the truth of
Christ's gospel and faith. If men be heretics, says Ter-
tullian. they cannot be Christians. The like is said by
Lactantius, and Jerome, and Athanasius, and Hilary, and
many others of the ancients, whose sense upon this mat-
ter I have fully represented in another place. As. there-
fore, there was an unity of faith necessary to be maintained
in certain fundamental articles, in order to make a man a

440 BINGHAM.

Christian, so these articles were always to be found in the
Church's creeds ; the profession of which was esteemed
keeping the unity of the faith; and deviating in any
point from them, was esteemed a breach of that one faith,
and a virtual departing from the unity of the Church.

" We are next to examine what communion different
churches held with one another, that we may discover the
harmonious unity of the catholic Church. And here first
of all we are to observe, that as there was one common
faith, consisting of certain fundamental articles, essential
to the very being of a particular Church and its unity,
and the being of a Christian: so this same faith was
necessary to unite the different parts of the catholic
Church, and make them one body of Christians. So that
if any Church deserted or destroyed this faith in whole or
in part, they were looked upon as rebels and traitors
against Christ, and enemies to the common faith, and
treated as a conventicle of heretics, and not of Christians.
Upon this account every bishop not only made a declara-
tion of his faith at his ordination, before the provincial
synod that ordained him, but also sent his circular or
encyclical letters, as they were called, to foreign Churches,
to signify that he was in communion with them. And
this was so necessary a thing in a bishop newly ordained,
that Liberatus tells us, the omission of it was interpreted
a sort of refusal to hold communion with the rest of the
world, and a virtual charge of heresy upon himself or
them .

" To maintain this unity of faith entire, every Church
was ready to give each other their mutual assistance to
oppose all fundamental errors, and beat down heresy at
its first appearance among them. The whole world in
this respect was but one common diocese, the episcopate
was an universal thing, and every bishop had his share in
it in such a manner as to have an equal concern in the
whole ; as I have more fully showed in another place,
where I observed, that in things not appertaining to the
faith, bishops were not to meddle with other men's

BINGHAM. 441

dioceses, but only to mind the business of their own : but
when the faith or welfare of the Church lay at stake, and
religion was manifestly invaded, then, by this rule, of
there being but one episcopacy, every other bishopric was
as much their diocese as their own ; and no human laws
or canons could tie up their hands from performing such
acts of the episcopal office in any part of the world, as
they thought necessary for the preservation of faith and
religion. This was the ground of their meeting in synods,
provincial, national, and sending their joint opinions and
advice from one church to another. The greatest part of
church history is made up of such acts as these, so that
it were next to impertinent to refer to any particulars. I
only observe one thing farther upon this head, that the
intermeddling with other men's concerns, which would
have been accounted a real breach of unity in many other
cases, was in this case thought so necessary, that there
was no certain way to preserve the unity of the catholic
Church and faith without it. And as an instance of this,
I have noted in the fore-cited book, that though it was
against the ordinary rule of the Church for any bishop to
ordain in another man's diocese, yet in case a bishop
turned heretic, and persecuted the orthodox, and would
ordain none but heretical men to establish heresy in his
diocese, in that case any orthodox bishop was not only
authorized, but obliged, as opportunity served, and the
needs of the Church required, to ordain catholic teachers
in such a diocese, to oppose the malignant designs of the
enemy, and stop the growth of heresy, which might other-
wise take deep root, and spread and overrun the Church.
Thus Athanasius and the famous Eusebius of Samosata
went about the world in the prevalency of the Arian
heresy, ordaining in every church where they came, such
clergy as were necessary to support the orthodox cause in
such a time of distress and desolation ; and this was so
far from being reckoned a breach of the Church's unity,
though against the letter of a canon in ordinary cases,
that it was necessary to be done, in such a state of affairs,

442 BIRCH.

to maintain the unity of the catholic faith, which every
bishop was obliged to defend, not only in his own diocese,
but in all parts of the world, by virtue of that rule which
obliges bishops in weighty affairs to take care of the
catholic Church, and requires all churches in time of
danger to give mutual aid and assistance to one another."
— Bingham s Works, with Memoir prefixed to the last
edition.

Birch, Thomas, was born in Clerkenwell, London, on
the 23rd of November, 1705. His parents, who were
quakers, intended him for trade, but the love of learning
prevailed, and he was permitted to pursue his inclination
on condition that he should provide for himself. He ac-
cordingly became usher in three schools kept by quakers,
which sect, however, he quitted, and in 1728 married the
daughter of Mr Cox, a clergyman, but lost his wife the
year following. In 1730 he was ordained by Hoadley,
then bishop of Salisbury, and as a disciple of Hoadley he
was introduced to the family of lord Hardwicke, and
procured the living of Ulting, in Essex. In 1734 he was
admitted into the royal society ; and the year following
elected a member of that of antiquaries. In 1743 he
obtained the rectory of Landewy Welfrey, in the county
of Pembroke. In 1744 he was presented to the rectory of
Siddington St Mary, and the vicarage of Siddington
St Peter, Gloucestershire, which he soon after resigned
for the rectories of St Michael, Wood-street, and St Mary,
Staining. His next preferment was the united rectory of
St Margaret Pattens and St Gabriel Fenchurch. In 1752
he became one of the secretaries of the royal society, soon
after which the degree of DD. was conferred on him by
Dr Herring, the archbishop of Canterbury. His last
preferment was the rectory of Depden, in Essex. He
was killed by a fall from his horse in the Hampstead-road,
January 9th, 1766s Dr Birch left a considerable part of
his fortune, and a large collection of MSS. and books to
the British Museum, of which he was one of the first

BIRINUS. 443

trustees. Besides his share in the General Historical
Dictionary, 10 vols, folio, which professes to be a transla-
tion of Boyle, augmented, and purged of its sceptical
matter, he published Thurloe's State Papers, 7 vols, folio ;
the Life of Mr Boyle, 8vo. ; the Life of Archbishop
Tillotson, 8vo; the Life and Works of John Greaves,
2 vols, 8vo; the Lives accompanying the Heads of
Illustrious Persons of Great Britain, engraved by Hou-
braken and Vertue, folio ; an Inquiry into the share
which Charles I. had in the Transactions of the earl of
Glamorgan, 8vo ; an Historical View of the Negotiations
between the Courts of England, France, and Brussels,
extracted from the State Papers of sir Thomas Edmondes,
knight, 8vo; the Life and Miscellaneous Works of sir
Walter Raleigh, 2 vols, 8vo ; Memoirs of the Reign of
queen Elizabeth, 2 vols, 4to ; The History of the Royal
Society, 4 vols, 4to ; the Life of Henry prince of Wales,
8vo ; Letters, Speeches, &c. of Francis Bacon, 8vo ; the
Intellectual System of Dr Cudworth, 2 vols, 4to ; Spencer's
Fairy Queen, 3 vols, 4to ; Letters between colonel Robert
Hammond and general Fairfax, &c, 8vo ; the Life of
Dr John Ward, professor of rhetoric at Gresham college,
8vo. He was also the author of many detached pieces
in various publications. — Biog. Brit.

Birkbeck, Simon, fellow of Queen's college, Oxford, born
at Hornby, in Westmoreland, in 1584. He acquired
considerable reputation as a preacher, and also for his
acquaintance with the works of the fathers. He was after-
wards vicar of Gilling, near Richmond, in Yorkshire,
which living he continued to hold during the usurpation.
His principal work is called, The Protestant's Evidence,
showing that for 1500 years next after Christ, divers
guides of God's Church have, on sundry points of religion,
taught as the church of England now doth. He died in
1656. — Wood's Athena;.

Bikini's, a Benedictine of Rome, who, having made

444 BISBIE.

a promise to pope Honorius, that he would sow the seed
of our holy faith in those parts of Britain beyond the
dominions of the English, to which no Christian preacher
had ever yet been, was sent by him upon that mission.
For this purpose he received episcopal consecration from
Asterius, bishop of Genoa, who was commissioned by that
pope to ordain him. Upon his arrival in Britain, finding
the West-Saxons entirely addicted to idolatry, he judged
it more expedient to begin to preach the Christian faith
amongst them for some time, than to proceed farther.
Wherefore he preached the gospel first to them, and soon
converted the king and his subjects. After the king
had been sufficiently instructed, he approached the bap-
tismal font to receive the sacred laver of regeneration,
on which occasion, the most holy and victorious Oswald,
king of Northumberland, assisted at the ceremony as
his sponsor ; and thus, by an alliance most pleasing and
acceptable to God, he first received him in quality of his
son by holy regeneration, whose daughter he afterwards
espoused as his consort in marriage. After which these
two kings gave bishop Birinus the city of Dorchester,
in Oxfordshire, that he might establish his episcopal see
there. In this place, after he had built and consecrated
several churches, and, by his industrious zeal, converted
many to the faith of Christ, he departed to Him, and was
interred in that city. Some time after which, when
Hedde was bishop, his remains were translated thence to
the city of Winchester, and deposited in the church of
the blessed apostles Peter and Paul. Out of this see of
Dorchester, which was soon transferred to Winchester,
were afterwards formed the sees of Salisbury, Exeter,
Wells, Lichfield, Worcester, and Hereford. — Bede H. E.

Bisbie, Nathaniel, DD. rector of Long Melford, near
Sudbury, Suffolk, and highly esteemed as a preacher and
a zealous churchman. He was deprived of his living for
his loyalty to king James II, and died a non-juror,

BISHOP. 445

September, 1695. He published — Sermons : The Modern
Pharisee ; Prosecution no Persecution, preached at Bury ;
Two Sermons on the Evils of Anarchy and Conventicles ;
The Bishop Visiting ; A Visitation Sermon. — Wood's
Athena.

Biscoe, Richard, bom about the end of the 17th
century ; probably the son of the nonconformist, John
Biscoe, of New Inn hall, Oxford. Having first presided
over a dissenting congregation, he repented, and subse-
quently conformed to the church of England. In 1727
he was presented to the living of St Martin Outwich, in
London, holding with it a prebend of St Paul's. He was
the author of the well known work, The History of the
Acts of the Apostles, confirmed from other authors, &c. ;
being the substance of his sermons preached at Boyle's
lecture in 1736, 1737, and 1738, and published in two
vols, 8vo, 1742. — Gen. Biog. Diet.

Bishop, William. This person, the first bishop ap-
pointed to preside over the Romish sect in England, was
educated at Oxford, either at Gloucester hall (now Wor-
cester college,) or Lincoln college. Wood thinks at the
former, the master of which was at least a romanizer, if
not an actual Romanist. He left Oxford in 1573, or 1574,
and completed his education in the seminaries at Rheims
and Rome. He was then sent as a missionary to England,
but was arrested at Dover, and confined in London till
the end of the year 1584. Being released, he went to
Paris ; and having taken his degree of licentiate, he re-
turned to England in 1591. For the first ten years of
queen Elizabeth's reign, there were many romanizers in
our church, who submitted to the regulations of the
Anglican bishops. The Romanists formed no distinct or
separate sect.

Out of 9,400 clergy of our church, only 175 lost their
preferments, at the time of the reformation under Eliza-
VOL. ii. 2 P

440 BISHOP.

beth, for refusing either to take the oath or to conform to
the liturgy ; among the laity in like manner, while many
objected to the reformation, almost all frequented the
service of the Church. It was more than once declared
by sir Edward Coke, when attorney general, and the queen
herself confirmed the statement in a letter to sir Francis
Walsingham, that, for the first ten years of her reign, the
catholics, without doubt or scruple, repaired to the parish
churches. The assertion is true, if not too generally
applied. " I deny not," says father Parsons in reply to
Coke, " but that many throughout the realm, though
otherwise catholics, [Romanists] in heart, (as most then
were,) did at that time and after, as also now, (1606,)
either upon fear, or lack of better instruction, or both,
repair to protestant churches."

Such was the general state of things. But men of more
ardent minds, such principally as, for noncompliance,
had been expelled the universities, or were disappointed
in their views of preferment ; such as a warmer zeal for
religion animated, and who could ill brook the growing
success of innovation : such as, habituated as they had
been in the schools to resist the new doctrines of the
reformers, were resolved not silently to quit the field, but
to maintain, by every exertion, the war of words they
loved, and which finally, they doubted not must triumph :
all these and more, when the measures of the court pre-
vailed, withdrew to the continent. They were received as
professors or students in the universities and monasteries,
particularly of France, Flanders, and Italy.

These were the men whose increasing manoeuvres
and activity originated the Romish schism in Eng-
land : in a few years the number of those who returned
was considerable, and having instituted a schism, they
were anxious to obtain a bishop that their sect might look
like a church. But to this plan the Jesuits, with that
dark intriguing polemic, father Parsons, at their head,
were opposed, and instead of a bishop the pope appointed

BISHOP. 147

an archpriest to preside over them. For an account of
this transaction the reader is referred to the life of Black-
well. Blackwell, the first archpriest, was a creature of
the Jesuits, and the secular clergy of the English schism
were discontented with the appointment. The narrative
shall be given in the words of Mr Berington himself a
Romish priest of Oscott.

" The resentment of the [Romish] clergy, thus over-
reached and insulted, was great, when they understood
what had been done at Rome, and when Mr Blackwell
announcing his delegation, declared his title with the
extent of its powers, and demanded their submission.
The elders came forward, at the head of whom were
Mr Colleton in the south, and in the north Mr Mush,
firm but candid men, admired for their learning, re-
vered for their virtues. They saw that the letter from
the protector was unsupported by any brief from his
holiness ; and soon the whole transaction was unravel-
led to them, the perfidy of Blackwell and Standish,
and the shameless declaration of the latter in company
with the pretended delegates before the pontiff at Rome.
They doubted not but the whole was the contrivance
of father Parsons, and that the cardinal and the pope
had been both imposed on, which many clauses of the
protector's letter sufficiently evinced. Under this convic-
tion, they entreated that they might not be urged to admit
the authority of the archpriest, till it should be confirmed
by an express brief, or till his holiness s pleasure were
signified to them. Besides, they observed, they would
not believe that the court of Rome, as the private instruc-
tions were said to enjoin, would impose on the clergy of
England the hard condition of submitting themselves to
the dominion of the new order of Jesuits.

" Blackwell perceived there was no time to be lost: where-
fore, in conjunction with father Garnet, he despatched
agents through the kingdom to collect signatures to a
letter of thanks to the pope and cardinal, for that excellent
form of government they had established over them. The

448 BISHOP.

young and ignorant, as yet unapprised of the matter,
allured by promises, or intimidated by threats, gave their
names ; and a messenger set out for Rome.

" The heads of the [Romish] clergy, meanwhile, de-
liberately concerted their plan of opposition, when it
was agreed to depute two of their body, to exhibit
their complaints to his holiness. The two chosen were
Dr Bishop and Mr Charnock; and they took with them
a remonstrance, the chief heads of which were, ' That
the government of an archpriest for a whole nation
seemed unprecedented and extraordinary ; that it did not
answer the ends of the mission, especially as to the sacra-
ment of confirmation ; that the divine institution required
a hierarchy in every national church ; that the measures
of the appointment were taken by misinformation and
surreptitious means ; that the chief persons among the
clergy had neither been advised with, nor had they con-
sented, as the court of Rome had been made to believe ;
that the whole derogated from the dignity of the clergy ;
that it was a contrivance of father Parsons and the Jesuits,
who had the liberty to nominate both the archpriest and
his assistants ; that the cardinal protector's letter, without
an express bull from his holiness, was not sufficient to
make so remarkable an alteration in the government of
the Church ; that the archpriest being ordered to advise
with the Jesuits in all matters relating to the clergy, was
an unbecoming restraint upon their body, and without a
precedent. For these, and such like reasons, they beg
leave to demur in their obedience to the archpriest, till
his authority shall be more legally established.'

" The letter of thanks to the Roman court wras soon
followed by less pleasing information, announcing the
opposition to the archpriest, and finally stating that two
agents from the clergy were actually on their way to Rome.
The cardinal received the news with indignation, and
instantly, by letter, demanded from Blackwell, in the
name of his holiness, a minute detail of all things, with
the names and characters of the agents and their refrac-

BISHOP. 419

tory associates, and the motives on which their resistance
was founded. The letter is dated Nov. 10, 1598.

"About the beginning of the new year, the deputies
being arrived in Rome, presented themselves before the
cardinals Cajetan and Borghese. How gracious their
reception was, we may conjecture ; for at night, they were
arrested in their lodgings, and conducted under a guard
of soldiers to the Roman college, where father Parsons
presided. He committed them to separate rooms, after
their papers, under a threat of excommunication if they
withheld any, had been take from them. That reverend
father, it is related, and other Jesuits had accompanied
the Sbirri. They were now separately examined by this
same inquisitor, while another father, officiating as secre-
tary, minuted their answers ; after which, being again
admitted to the cardinals, they underwent another inter-
rogatory, and were reconducted to prison, where they
remained four months.

" Such, thus far, was the issue of a solemn deputation
from the catholic [Romish] clergy of England to his holi-
ness Clement VIII !"

The pope perceived that in permittiug a cardinal to
nominate the archpriest he had made a mistake ; in 1599
therefore he issued a brief confirming what the cardinal
had done, and superadding the usual mandates of a papal
decree. The brief restored tranquillity for a season, which
was not, however, of long continuance. It forced obedi-
ence from the popish clergy, but it could not reconcile
them to its injunctions. They never ceased to agitate
until they carried their point and obtained a bishop. In
16-23 father Parsons was dead; political considerations,
which had hitherto rendered the pope hostile to the
request of his clerical agents in England, now inclined
him to accede to their wishes, and Dr Bishop was chosen:
it was supposed that his appointment would be pleasing
to king James's government, and as Mr Beringtoo, who
was well acquainted with the principles of his own
2p2

450 BISHOP

church, observes, "being in his 70th year, it might be
presumed that death would soon lay his mitre low, and
place the English church," (meaning the Romish sect in
England,) "in its usual state of anarchy." It seems
strange for a Romanist to attribute so foul a purpose to
the head of his church. Bishop was consecrated at Paris
on the 31st of July, 1623. Mr Berington proceeds :

" The bull for Dr Bishop's consecration to the see of
Chalcedon was sufficiently ample, conveyed in the usual
style of the Roman court, wherein the lowly servus ser-
vorum soon drops the menial character, and rises to the
demeanour and lordly energy of an all-powerful monarch.
He is appointed, post longum mentis nostra? discursum,
to the church of Chalcedon in the ancient Bithynia ; but
his residence, speciali gratia, is dispensed with, so long
as that church remain in the hands of infidels. The
brief, which directs the exercise of his jurisdiction to the
kingdoms of England and Scotland, specifies the powers
with which he is invested : ' When thou shalt be arrived
in those kingdoms, we grant unto thee license, ad nostrum
et sedis apostolicae beneplacitum, freely and lawfully to
enjoy and use all and each those faculties lately committed
by our predecessors to the archpriests, as also such as
ordinaries enjoy and exercise in their cities and dioceses.'
These two instruments were followed by a decree, enabling
him to choose a vicar-general, and appoint such other
officers as he might judge necessary ; but which terminated
with this general clause, that the whole of the powers and
jurisdiction granted him should cease, whenever England
returned to the catholic faith, and its sees were filled
with regular ministers.

"It is true, as I have stated, that the clergy applied
for a bishop with ordinary jurisdiction, meaning he
should be no Roman delegate, as the three archpriests
had recently been : it is likewise true, that Dr Bishop,
as will be seen, was received in England as such, that
he viewed himself as such, and that the general

BISHOP. 451

language of the papal instruments imported as much;
still, when we consider the saving clause, ad nostrum et
sedis apostolicae beneplacitum, applied to the exercise of
that jurisdiction which is alone essential to bishops, (such
as ordinaries enjoy and exercise are the words of the
brief,) it must be admitted that the power granted was
revocable at will, that it was therefore a delegated power,
and that Dr Bishop was no more than a vicar-apostolic,
vested with ordinary jurisdiction. The events which soon
followed under his successor will evince more clearly the
truth of this observation. Thus was the artful policy of
the Roman court, which never willingly lets go a power
it has once been permitted to exercise, rendered more
conspicuous ; and the clergy's agent, Mr Bennet, did
but shew how completely his honesty was duped, when,
having read the brief of his holiness, in exultation of
mind he was heard to exclaim, rem habemus, verba non
moramur.

" The bishop was received with great marks of respect
by the clergy and laity. The monks of the Benedictine
order also came forward, welcoming him as ordinary of
England, and promising filial love and reverence ; nor
do I find that, openly at least, his government was op-
posed by any.

" Those monks, it may be proper to observe, had been
lately formed into an English congregation, having estab-
lished themselves in different houses abroad : and about
the year 1617, the friars of the order of St Francis had
been founded in Douay. Of these orders some were now
in England.

" The general state of catholics continued such as I
have described it, favoured clandestinely by the king,
whose mind was still fixed on the Spanish match, but daily
harassed by the popular or puritanic party both in and
out of parliament. The utter dislike the nation had
expressed of that alliance, served to foment the general
odium of popery ; but the match broke off, and with it

452 BISHOP.

vanished the brilliant dream the catholics had indulged
of a returning happiness.

" Meanwhile, the bishop of Chalcedon proceeded in his
functions ; and to obviate, as far as might be, the repeti-
tion of such attempts as had often disgraced the catholic
cause, and to give a permanent security to an establish-
ment, of which he thought himself the canonical head,
with the advice of many able canonists, he instituted a
dean and chapter, as a standing senate and council for his
own assistance, and, sede vacante, to exercise episcopal
ordinary jurisdiction. That his power, if truly episcopal,
extended to this, the discipline of all ages had clearly
evinced. But some doubts seemed to hang on his mind :
'What defect,' he says, 'maybe in my powers, I shall
supplicate his holiness to make good from the plenitude
of his own.' The number of canons was nineteen, at the
head of whom was Mr Colleton, the dean. At the same
time, for the government of the distant provinces, our
prelate appointed five vicars general, and twenty arch-
deacons, with a certain number of rural deans.

" Now, it seemed to many, that the English catholic
church was re-established in the renovation of her hier-
archy. But the fond imagination, I fear, was founded on no
truth ; or, if it could, at this time, be said that we had a
church, there was no period, since the reformation, in
which it might not have been asserted with equal propriety.
The archpriests, it is allowed, were delegated agents ; and
such, I have shewn, was the bishop of Chalcedon. His
commission was more extensive, but his powers were
revocable at the will of his employer, ad nostrum et sedis
apostolicae beneplacitum. It is not with such a precarious
head that any ordinary jurisdiction is exercised ; that a
hierarchy is established ; that a church is formed. The
Roman pontiff still continued to be, what the clergy of
England had, for many years, permitted him to be, their
only bishop. He governed us, at one time, by the agency
of Dr Allen, or perhaps by that of father Parsons : at

BISSK 453

another by his archpriests ; now by the bishop of Chalce-
don ; and in after times, as it will appear, by a series of
similar delegations. To the pride of some minds such an
extraordinary economy might be flattering.

" But," Mr Berington asserts, " we always had a
church, because we always had a priesthood regularly suc-
ceeding in the ministry over a believing flock, and united
to the common centre of unity. And if the hierarchy, of
which this priesthood is a component part, was imperfect,
let the blame fall where it should, either on the clergy, who,
instructed by venerable antiquity, neglected obvious means
to give to themselves and the faithful a regular superinten-
dant pastor, or on the Roman bishop, who, when applied
to by reiterated petitions, agreeably to the rules of a more
modem discipline, refused compliance, preferring rather
to see the remains of the British church unassisted in its
spiritual exigencies, than to part from a power which a
vain prerogative had established. The title of universal
bishop which St Gregory, with the strongest expressions
of horror, had rejected from him, his successors, in later
days, seemed fondly to ambition; at least, in their conduct
to the British catholics, they have, to the present hour,
retained the proud pre-eminence, and exercised it.

" The auspicious opening of Dr Bishop's government,
which seemed to promise peace and a re-union of sen-
timents, was soon clouded over. He died April 16th,
1624. aged seventy-one."

This article is taken chiefly from Berington's Preface
to the Memoirs of Panzani. As Berington was a Piomish
priest at Oscott, it was thought expedient to use his
words. Whether his sentiments would be tolerated at
Oscott now is doubtful. — Charles Butler. Dod. Darivall's
Transactions of the English Romanists.

Bisse, Thomas, was bom at Oldbuiy-on-the-hill, in
Gloucestershire, and was baptized on Easter Tuesday,
1675. At the age of sixteen he was admitted a member of
New college, Oxford, and on the 12th of January, 1692,

454 BISSE.

he was elected on the foundation of Corpus Christi college :
he took his degree of MA. in 1698, BD. in 1708, and
DD. in 1712. He became preacher at the Rolls in 1715,
in the chapel of which society he delivered his able dis-
courses " On the excellency and beauty of the Liturgy."
In the year 1716 he was collated by his brother, the
bishop of Hereford, to the chancellorship of that diocese,
and afterwards to a prebend in the cathedral church. He
here distinguished himself by a conscientious discharge of
his duty in taking care that the services of the sanctuary
were performed with due solemnity and grandeur. We
hear of men accepting deaneries and stalls in cathedral
churches, who openly profess their dislike of the choral
sendee ; some have even censured it as popish and
corrupt, and yet, for filthy lucre's sake, have, during
their residence, committed the popery, and shared in the
corruption. Too many have thought only of filling their
purses, and have been pre-eminent for luxurious living,
while their expenditure on the services of the church has
been niggardly in the extreme. The zeal of deans and
chapters in raising the value of their estates, and their
disregard, at the same time, of the service of God, — some
of them never attending church on the week-day, except
when compelled by the statutes, in order to be qualified
for their dividends, doing for money what for the love of
God they will not do — this it is that demoralizes cathedral
towns, and is leading to the suppression of cathedral
establishments. Lazy and luxurious deans and canons
will not be tolerated by those whose indignation is excited
by the thought of lazy monks of old. There are splendid
exceptions to be made to these censures, and among the
exceptions which the censor of cathedral establishments
will make, the name of Bisse will find a place. His
vindication of cathedral worship or choir service, is satis-
factory and complete ; the only answer that the greatest
enemy of the Church can adduce is, that the practice and
the theoiy do not correspond. Let, then, the theory be
adopted, and as to the practice, let those deans and

BISSE. 455

chapters who (we must say dishonestly as well as sacri-
ligiously,) do not attend to the service of their churches,
be denounced, and, if possible, prosecuted.

Of musical services, Bisse remarks : " I grant, that all
true worship must be in spirit and in truth, must proceed
from the soul and mind, however offered up, whether
'sung or said.' This was as necessary in the Jewish as
in the Christian worship. Give thanks, 0 Israel, saith
David, unto God from the ground of the heart. Without
this the most harmonious, even David himself, would be
to God no other, no better than the instrument in his
hand. Without real piety as well as charity of the heart
and affections, though the most devout, even St Paul sung
with the tongue of angels, he would be but as a sounding
brass. For are not the lips, the tongue, the voice, merely
instrumental in praising the Lord ? It is the soul, like
Mary's, that must magnify the Lord; it is the spirit that
must rejoice in God our Saviour, though it doth it by the
instruments furnished by nature, as the tongue and lips ;
or those added by art, as the harp or organ. This objec-
tion, were there any force in it, would be as much against
vocal prayer, as vocal music. For it is certain we must
pray, as well as sing, with our heart unto God. But if
we consult the practice of the objectors, who themselves
delight in singing psalms in their assemblies, this objec-
tion seems levelled not against the use of vocal, but of
instrumental music in the Christian worship : this they
say is inconsistent with the spirituality of the gospel -
worship, though allowed in the ceremonial service of the
Jewish temple.

" But they consider not, that this institution of a choir
to minister before the ark, though appointed under the
law, was no original part of the law given by Moses, and
therefore could have no necessary dependence upon it, so
as to be continued or abrogated with it. The praising
God, if rightly considered, is an essential part of the
moral law, which can never be abrogated : and the per-
formance of it by singing is as lawful, as by speaking.

456 BISSE.

For what is singing, but a melodious way of speaking ?
and the more natural way, because more melodious, more
affecting, more awakening our natural passions, and more
expressive of their joy. And if singing the praises of
God Most High be as lawful, as speaking them, is it not
equally lawful, to call in the best helps and assistances to
the voice in one manner of pronunciation, as is usual in
the other ? Such helps are musical instruments, which
being mere instruments have no voice of their own, have
neither speech nor language, and therefore cannot offend ;
yet they are formed to assist the voice of the singer, to fill
up, soften, or relieve its intermissions ; and in general to
sweeten it by the union or correspondence of its symphony.
To this end were they invented, and to this end have they
been used, as most grateful assistants, in singing praises
unto God, before the giving of the law, before the flood.
Jubal is recorded for the original invention : and the
song of Moses, sung by all Israel, and which Miriam with
all the women repeated with timbrels in their hands, was
sung before the delivery of the law.

" But as strange as this objection surely is, yet the
reason given for it is more strange : that temple music was
indulged to the Jews, because a carnal people ; whereas of
all inventions found for the gratification of human nature,
music is the most spiritual, and fitted for men of the most
spiritual and elevated affections. There are pleasures
that are calculated for carnal sensual men, which fill their
minds with dross and dirt, and by no imaginary meta-
morphosis turn them into brute beasts of the earth, into
earth itself. Whereas music is allowed to sit among, or
rather above human pleasures, as a refiner : it raises the
mind and its desires above their low level, drives out
carnal thoughts and inclinations as dross, and leaves it
like pure gold, which like that too is most ductile and
susceptible of good and heavenly impressions : it lifts us
up as into heaven, and fits us for the society of heaven.
For this reason is it so highly honoured by the SpiriJ of
God, as to be represented as used in the worship of the

BISSE. 457

heavenly choir, composed of angels and glorified saints,
who must be acknowledged more spiritual than any saints
upon earth ; and to worship more in spirit and in truth.
From these then we will fetch our precedents. The four
and twenty elders fell down before the Lamb, having
every one of them harps, and they sung a new song.
Again, I heard the voice of harpers harping with harps,
and they sung as it were a new song before the throne.
The same we find Rev. xv. 2. Now these descriptions of
the heavenly choir, though bearing an analogy to the
temple-worship, were written and directed to the Christian
church, prophesying what should come to pass in it, and
describe the worship of it, not of the Jewish church,
which was then passing away. Nay those saints which
were thus represented as singing with harps, were them-
selves Christians. For they were redeemed by the blood
of the Lamb, before whom they thus sung : Thou wast
slain and hast redeemed us to God."

Of chanting he says : " Various are the reasons for
this ancient usage of singing, as termed in the rubric,
but in common appellation chanting, the public service.

" 1. In general we Christians do hereby testify, that the
law of God is not troublesome or grievous, but pleasant
and sweet ; and that we keep it not as servants with the
spirit of fear, but as children with the spirit of love, even
the love of David, who make also the statutes of God our
song in the house of our pilgrimage. We acknowledge,
that all the faithful under the law were of the same
family, of the same household of faith with us Christians,
though shut up under a darker and severer dispensation ;
but thence we argue, that if the worship under the
ministration of condemnation were allowed to be joyous,
much more may ours under the ministration of righteous-
ness exceed in joy.

" 2. We Christians by this usage distinguish our worship
from that of the gentiles, by the cheerfulness of our
voices, as well as of our behaviour.

VOL. II. 2 Q

458 BISSE.

"As to the behaviour of the primitive Christians, the
manner was, as Tertullian describes in his Apology, c. 39,
to pray with their hands stretched out, and their heads
uncovered; by their open hands protesting their inno-
cency, by their open countenance professing they were not
ashamed. Manibus expansis, quia innocuis ; capite nudo,
quia non erubescimus : thereby taxing the gentiles, whose
custom at their public worship was to cover their hands
and faces, which was a tacit acknowledgment of guilt in
their hands and shame in the face. Thus, as by the
openness of demeanour, so by the cheerfulness of voice,
testified in singing their prayers, they declared, that they
did not worship, as men without hope, like the geu tiles,
whose sacrifices were attended with dejection and des-
pondency, with loud cryings and bowlings ; but that their
worship was full of faith and hope, which are graces full
of joy and consolation.

"3. This manner gives still an higher dignity, solem-
nity, and a kind or degree of sanctity to divine worship,
by separating it more, and setting it at a farther distance
from all actions and interlocutions that are common and
familiar : chanting being a degree and advance in dignity
above the distinct reading or saying used in the church,
as that is and ought ever to be above that manner of
reading or speaking, which passes in common conversation
and intercourse among men. For this reason is not a
peculiar and solemn manner of reading received in our
courts of judicature, in our senates and synods ; thereby
to give an awfulness and distinction to those public
proceedings, by separating them from the condescensions
and freedoms that are used in common transactions ?

■'4. Chanting the service is found more efficacious to
awaken the attention, to stir up the affections, and to
edify the understanding, than plain reading of it, though
assisted by proper emphasis and graces of a well governed
pronunciation : which effects, as they are wrought princi-
pally by the melody of the voice ; so not a little by the

BISSE. 459

very strength and loudness of it, which is known to have
its force, and to attract the hearers. Now the voice may
be much more raised, extended or exerted in chanting,
than is practicable in speaking. Yet some, through un-
skillfulness in elocution, borrow a corrupt imitation of
this manner to strengthen their utterance in their assem-
blies, and assume a tone in their praying and preaching :
not considering, that in chanting, though this be natural
and pleases, yet in speaking it becomes affected and
offends : and that chanting misunderstood and misapplied,
falls under the appellation and censure of canting. So
unhappily blind is prejudice, as to condemn that manner
in our worship, when it is in perfection ; and yet in their
own, to take up with its corruption.

" But in this ancient usage, though the cheerful joyful-
ness, dignity, and efficacy of the voice be principally
manifested, yet the evenness of it was also intended ; not
the melody only, but moreover the equality of pronuncia-
tion was consulted. The manner of chanting directed by
St Athanasius, was such as to be the vicinior pronuncianti
quam canenti. Which manner our own church described,
as well as directed, in a former rubric, which thus
appointed, ' That in places where they do sing, (or choirs)
there shall the lessons be sung in a plain tune, after the
manner of distinct reading, and likewise the epistle and
gospel.' Whence I observe, that according to the intention
of our church, the manner of chanting should be reduced
and regulated to the ancient planus cantus, which, as
interpreted by that rubric, is after the manner of distinct
reading. And though there may be allowed a greater
liberty in chanting the prayers than the lessons, yet there
too the injunctions, Eliz. 49, direct, ' That there be a
modest and distinct song so used through all the parts of
the common prayers, that the same may be as plainly
understood, as if it were read without singing.' The end
propounded in both is the edification of the people, to
which is recommended by the one a plain, by the other a
modest chanting, as being more distinct, rather than if

460 BISSE.

accompanied with much modulation of the voice ; wherein
choirs are apt to exceed, as being most pleasing and
acceptable. Insomuch that the restitution and continu-
ance of that manner of chanting, which was directed by
St Athanasius even in the psalms, has been the desire of
the judicious, as it was of St Austin, at least in the
prayers ; qui tarn modico flexu vocis faciebat sonare
lectorem psalmi, ut pronuncianti vicinior esset, quam
canenti.

" Nevertheless, at the close of each prayer or collect, a
certain modulation, inflexion or change of voice, such as
is accustomed, is both necessary and becoming : becoming,
because being placed upon that constant close, ' through
Jesus Christ our Lord,' or the like, it is a proper testimony,
that we rejoice in God our Saviour ; necessary, because it
serves as a public sign or warning to the choir to join in
the approaching Amen. For the same reason is it also
necessary in chanting the versicles and responses, distri-
buted throughout the liturgy. This modulation of the
voice of the priest has the same use, and is of the same
necessity, in our cathedral worship, as the cadence or
other variation of it is, when he only says or reads the
service in our parochial churches."

He says of cathedrals generally: •• 1. Concerning our
cathedral churches and the service offered up therein, I
must remind you, that however useless and unserviceable
they have been thought by some, they contribute above
all things, highly to the honour of God and His holy
religion; and to the spiritual happiness and outward
prosperity of the people or places where they are built ;
and above all to the public welfare and security of the
nation.

" They contribute highly above all things and ways, to
the honour of God and His holy religion established
among us. When the queen of Sheba saw the house
that Solomon had built, and the meat of his tables, and
the sitting of his servants, and the attendance of his
ministers and their apparel, she was overpowered with

BISSE. 46L

astonishment. For there is nothing can set off the
majesty of princes so much as the magnificence of their
palaces, and the economy of the royal household, and
splendour of their courts. In like manner the majesty of
Him who is higher than the highest, cannot be manifested
among men any other visible way, but by the greatness of
His temples, and glory of the daily ministrations therein.
But now what august sanctuaries are our cathedral
fabrics ? and how glorious the worship offered up therein,
as ye are witnesses this day ? It was the peculiar blessing
of God to this nation, that these sacred buildings exceed
in greatness the cathedral churches of any other nation :
and it is a more peculiar blessing, that the worship in it
exceeds in glory their worship also. There remain scarce
either house or worship of this kind among the churches
that are called reformed : and the church of Rome, which
has both, and glories in both, must yield this glory to us,
till it is reformed. Blessed, therefore, be the name of our
God, and blessed be the memory of His instruments,
those famous men; who in reforming our worship, followed
not after the tumultuous manner of other nations, but
after the pattern and spirit of holy David : for they did
the very same things as the wise man records of David ;
as they set singers before the altar, so they beautified our
feasts, and set in order the solemn times, to the end, that
we might praise His holy name, and that our temples
might sound from morning.

" I will not now enlarge on the spiritual happiness
derived upon the people, who dwell round about and daily
frequent these temples ; a life made up of duty and delight,
far more pleasurable than if led in courts and theatres ;
which yet are thought the most pleasurable lives, but only
thought, seldom found so : neither will I speak of the
temporal prosperity derived upon the cities where they
are built, by bringing a constant resort and confluence
into their gates, of dependents, relations, and strangers,
of dependents drawn upon business, relations by affinity,
3q3

462 BISSE.

strangers through curiosity, which is the common channel
of commerce and wealth : but what I must insist on is,
that these sacred foundations are no receptacles of an
useless generation, that ought to be dissolved ; no hives
of drones, that live upon the good of the land, without
bringing any returns into the fund of the national interest ;
but that, on the contrary, they do above all professions,
orders or societies of men, military or civil, contribute to
the public welfare and establishment of our nation.

" For from whence comes our national strength ? Comes
it not from our national worship, which alone induces God
according to His covenant to come and dwell among us,
and to be our God, and make us His people ? Suppose
we are strong in our fleets and armies, and stronger in
our alliances, and in the multitude of our treasures, which
are the sinews and strength of the former. What induce-
ments are these to God to be our God ? Will He choose
us for His people, because we are a rich people ? Will He
be our God, because we have kings, emperors and states
for our allies ? Will He dwell among us, because we can
cause Him to dwell in safety through the defence of our
fleets and armies ? No ; as God is our strength, so were
it not for the public worship, offered up day by day, in His
holy places, He would utterly depart from among us :
were it not for the standing sacrifice of the tabernacle, the
Lord would remove out of our camp.

" All this was not only acknowledged by our governors,
but urged by them as the conclusive reason for establishing
the liturgy, ' as being most profitable to the state of this
realm, upon which the mercy, favour, and blessing of
Almighty God is in no wise so readily and plentifully
poured, as by public prayers.' The same acknowledgment
was repeated, the same argument urged again by our
governors for re-establishing the liturgy after the grand
rebellion, that dismal interval, a cloud and scandal to our
chronicle, when the daily offering with the liturgy being
caused to cease throughout the land, the vials of God's

BISSE. 463

wrath were as readily and plentifully poured upon the
state of this realm, if it might be called a state, for many
years.

" Now though the public worship be appointed to be
daily offered up in our parish churches, and in some few
is offered up according to appointment ; yet in these great
temples the morning and evening sacrifice is never inter-
mitted : it is offered day by day continually, even as the
Lamb under the law. These are the great mother churches
in every diocese, from which the parochial churches
being originally derived, and upon which being depend-
ent, are to be looked upon as parts of them, and belonging
to them, as living members of the same body. And there-
fore the acts and offerings which are offered up in these
greater, are accepted for all the lesser parish churches
within their dependence, where the daily offering is not
upon just cause observed, as indeed it generally cannot ;
even as the daily sacrifice of the temple was imputed to
the several synagogues, where only the law and the
prophets were expounded, and that every sabbath day.
These cathedral temples, these mother churches, the sure
resting places for the ark of the covenant, before which
the daily offering never ceaseth to be offered morning and
evening, these are our strength and salvation, and are of
far greater use and security to our people and to our land,
than all the watchfulness of our senators, or policy of our
ambassadors, or valour of our mighty men. God is well
known in these palaces of our Sion, as a sure refuge."

Dr Bisse first established the annual meeting of the
three choirs of Hereford, Worcester, and Gloucester,
which still occurs for the relief of the widows and orphans
of the clergy ; but what has degenerated into a mere
music meeting was in his hands a religious solemnity.
The idea was suggested to him when he was called to
preach for the sons of the clergy at St Paul's, in 1716 ;
the following note is appended to that sermon :

" In confirmation of their character in this as in the
foregoing particulars, I will insert this account out of Dr

464 BISSE.

Chamberlain's Present State of England, where, speaking
of former times, he saith :

4 Great was the authority of the clergy in those days,
and their memory should be precious in these days, if we
consider, that they were the authors of so great benefits
and advantages to this kingdom ; that there are few things
of any importance for promoting of the welfare of this
church and state, wherein the bishops and prelates, under
God, have not been the principal instruments. The
excellent laws made by king Ina, king Athelstan, king
Edmond, and St Edward the Confessor, from whom we
have our common laws, and our privileges mentioned in
magna charta, were all made by the persuasions and
advice of archbishops and bishops named in our histories.
The union of the two houses of York and Lancaster,
(whereby a long and bloody war was ended) was by the
most wise advice and counsel of bishop Morton, then a
privy- counsellor. The union of England and Scotland,
that inexpressible advantage to both nations, was brought
to pass by the long foresight of the reverend bishop Fox,
a privy-counsellor, in advising Henry VII to match his
eldest daughter to Scotland, and his younger to France.
Most of the great public works now remaining in England,
acknowledge their ancient and present being, either to the
sole cost and charges, or to the liberal contributions, or at
least to the powerful persuasions of bishops ; as most of
the best endowed colleges in both our universities, very
many hospitals, churches, palaces, castles, have been
founded and built by bishops : even that famous charge-
able and difficult structure of London bridge, stands
obliged to the liberal contributions of an archbishop ; and
it was a bishop of London, at whose earnest request
William the Conqueror granted to the city of London so
large privileges, that the lord mayor and aldermen upon
some solemn days of their resort to St Paul's church, did,
before the late dreadful fire, go in procession about the
grave stone where that bishop lay interred.

" In these and such like particulars you may there see

BLACKALL. 465

that Dr William Juxton, archbishop of Canterbury's
benefices amounted to £64,000 ; Dr Gilbert Sheldon,
£57,000 ; Dr Brian Duppa, £46,000; Dr Frewen, beside
abatements, £15,000; Dr Cosins, £66,000; Dr Warner,
£59,600— Total, £307,600. Besides the deans and chap-
ters there mentioned : Canterbury, £16,000 ; Winchester,
£45,800; Durham, £1,500; Ely, £14,000; Exeter,
26,000; Lincoln, £11,000; Rochester, £10,000; Wor-
cester, £19,000; Windsor, £28,500; York, £8,000;
Wells, £8,000— £187,800 ; sum total, £495,400. The
rest doubtless parted with their money proportion ably."

He died April 22nd, 1731. His works, still highly
esteemed, are, The Beauty of Holiness in the Common
Prayer, as set forth in four sermons, preached at the Rolls
chapel, 1716. Decency and Order in Public Worship,
three sermons, 1723. A course of sermons on the Lord's
Prayer, 1 740, with several occasional sermons, and among
them the Rationale, quoted above. — Bisses Works. Pococtis
Preface to the Beauty of Holiness.

Blackall, Offspring, was born in London in 1654,
and educated at Catherine hall, Cambridge. In 1690 he
was presented to the living of South Okenden, Essex ;
and four years afterwards to the rectory of St Mary,
Aldermanbury, London. He was also appointed chaplain
to king William. In 1699 he preached a sermon before
the house of commons, on the 30th of January, which
occasioned a controversy between him and Toland res-
pecting the claim of king Charles I. to the " Icon
Basilike." The year following he preached the sermons
at Boyle's lecture; and in 1707 was consecrated bishop
of Exeter. Soon after this he had a controversy with
Hoadley, on the doctrine of obedience. Bishop Blackall
died at Exeter in 1716,

The character of this good Christian is thus given by
sir William Dawes, archbishop of York, who published
his sermons in two volumes, folio, in 1723.

" He declares, that in his whole conversation he never

466 BLACKBURN.

met with a more perfect pattern of a true Christian life, in
all its parts, than in him ; so much primitive simplicity
and integrity ; such constant evenness of mind, and uni-
form conduct of behaviour ; such unaffected and yet most
ardent piety towards God ; such orthodox and stedfast
faith in Christ ; such disinterested and fervent charity to
all mankind ; such profound modesty, humility, and so-
briety ; such an equal mixture of meekness and courage,
of cheerfulness and gravity ; such an exact discharge of all
relative duties ; and in one word, such an indifferency to
this lower world and the things of it ; and such an entire
affection and joyous hope and expectation of things above.
He says also, that his ' manner of preaching was so excel-
lent, easy, clear, judicious, substantial, pious, affecting,
and upon all accounts truly useful and edifying, that he
universally acquired the reputation of being one of the
best preachers of his time.' Felton, in his classics, com-
mends him as an excellent writer. M. de la Roche, in
his memoirs of literature, tells us, that our prelate was
one of those English divines, who, when they undertake
to treat a subject, dive into the bottom of it, and exhaust
the matter. His works were published by archbishop
Dawes, in 2 vols, folio. 1723, consisting of practical dis-
courses on our Saviour's sermon on the mount, and on
the Lord's Prayer, together with his sermons preached at
Boyle's lecture, with several others upon particular occa-
sions.

Blackburn, John, was born in 1683, and graduated at
Trinity college, Cambridge. At the revolution he became
a non-juror. In the year 1 726 he was consecrated a
bishop by bishops Spinkes, Gandy, and Doughty, being
attached to that section of the non-jurors which in the
controversy with respect to the usages, adhered to the prac-
tice of the English church, as it stood at the time of the
separation. Subsequently to the year 1733 the usages,
certain primitive practices, were adopted by the non-
jurors generally, but bishop Blackburn, as he opposed the

BLACKBURN. 467

observance of them originally, continued his opposition
consistently throughout the controversy. This is evident
from a letter of Carte's, written in 1731, addressed to
Corbet Kynaston. " I sent you word just as I left this
place in July, of the opposition made by some presbyters
to the re-union among the non-jurors, all whose bishops
agreed in it except LB., a copy of whose letter I send
you in this. I must now acquaint you with what passed
after I left the town. Those of their presbyters that
opposed it, drew up a representation against it, a very
pompous empty declamation (the penman supposed to be
Mr William Law) and got in several to sign it, who had
appeared friends to the union before : but Mr J. Creyk
has a great influence, having the disposal of a great deal
of money, left by Mrs Pincham and others to be distri-
buted to the non-jurors.

" After this representation was sent, answer was made
to it both by Dr Brett and Mr Smith of Durham, in which
it was proved that what was desired was no alteration, for
a declaration of their sense in interpreting any passage of
the liturgy was no alteration in it : nor in reality was the
mixture any: for in king Edward's liturgy, after water
had been mixed with the wine, in the sight of all the peo-
ple, the rubric went on to say, ' Then shall the priest put
the bread and wine on the table.' Here the word wine
was certainly used for the mixed cup. In the second
liturgy of king Edward, all this rubric was left out, and
no directions at all given about the cup : and so it stood,
till after the restoration. The word ' oblations' was added
to the prayer for the Church militant, and to prevent the
clerk or sexton's placing the elements on the altar, which
they considered as an oblation, a rubric was made directing
the priest to place the bread and wiue on the altar. So
it stands now ; and yet I cannot see that the term
wine can now be interpreted to exclude the mixture, when
in king Edward's first liturgy it undeniably expressed it.
And yet this mixture is the only thing that looks like an
alteration : so that the great stir made in the representa-

468 BLACKBURN.

tion about giving up the church of England, has some-
thing in it ridiculous as well as intemperate.

"The country layman reflected on in the representation,
is Mr Smith of Durham, an excellent man, and what his
learning is, his notes upon Bede's Ecclesiastical History
sufficiently shew. Endeavours were made to get the
presbyters to recede from this representation, and there
were hopes of succeeding, when Mr B. sent the inclosed
letter to Mr Gandy, and therein quoted a passage, which
ha says was written by our master's direction. This
knocked all on the head again. Now I can hardly think
that our master ever gave such directions ; or if he did,
the affair must have been strangely misrepresented to
him. I could wish, therefore, it was stated to him in its
true light, for then I am persuaded he would give his
approbation of it, and if he did, and that was once signi-
fied here, the union would be brought about, and executed
here without any difficulty. This is therefore a very ma-
terial point, and I should be very glad to have the matter
cleared up, this pretence of his being averse to it being
the main obstacle to so desirable an union. I sent you
the terms before, so that I need not repeat them, only
I shall mention one alteration I proposed, to get over
Mr Blackburn's objection: it was to be declared that
the words in the prayers for the Church militant,
1 that we with them may be partakers' should be under-
stood in the same sense as those in the burial office.
Mr B. saying he did not understand them in the same
sense, I proposed it to be expressed thus, in a sense agree-
able to that passage in the burial office : he could not
oppose this without making the Church inconsistent, so
my amendment was agreed to. I wish you could commu-
nicate this to our friend, to whom I desire my humble
duty may be acceptable : and if something could still be
done in this affair, it would be infinitely to the satisfaction
of, Dear Sir, yours entirely, Thomas Carte."

This is an interesting letter. Law was among the
opponents of the union, because the usagers proposed it

BLACKBURN. 469

on their own terms. It does not appear that there was to
be any thing like mutual concession. Undoubtedly the
majority of the non-jurors were usagers, but as Law and
Blackburn never yielded, we may infer that the two com-
munions yet continued distinct : Carte was among those
who adopted the usages. Probably, Mr Kynaston, to
whom the letter was written, had access to the Pretender,
who is called, by Carte, their master. In the Lockhart
papers, there is evidence, that the Pretender was dis-
pleased at these internal disputes : but Carte imagines,
that the question had not been fairly represented. It is
clear, therefore, that the new communion office was now
adopted by some of those who had previously rejected it :
and " it is mentioned," says Mr Perceval, " that in the
year 1733, all the non-juring bishops of this time were in
communion, except Blackburn, who stood alone, but on
what account is not stated. It is, I think, clear from
Carte's letter, that Blackburn stood apart on the ground
of the usages, which were made terms of communion, and
to which he could not consent. Having acted and agreed
with Spinkes, he could not relinquish the use of the
office of the ADglican Church." This occurred in 1741.
He was buried in Islington church yard, and Nichols
says : " When a schoolboy, I have often gazed with
astonishment at the following epitaph, the meaning of
which I was then unable to comprehend :

' Hie situm est quod mortale fait

Viri vere reverendi

Johannis Blackbouvne A.M.

Ecclesiae Aiiglicanae Presbyteri,

Pontificorum eeque ac Novatorum Mallei,

Docti, clari, strenui, proinpti :

Qui (uti verbo Bicam) csetera eniin quis nescit ?

Cum eo non dignus erat,

Usque adeo degener, rnundus,

Ad Beatorum Sedes

Translatus est, 17 die Novembris

A. D. MDCCXLI. Oetat. SUW LVIil.
VOL. II. 2 R

170 BLACKBURN.

On the foot stone :

Christo qui vivit, morte perire nequit.
Resurgam. J. B.
Nunc, amice Lector, quisquis sis,
Ex hinc disce, qui es, et quid eris.'

The following particulars respecting his manner of life
are taken from the MSS. of the Rev Richard Bowes, DD :
" Soon after the revolution he became one of those few truly
conscientious men who refused the new oaths. From that
time he lived a very exemplary good life, and studied
hard : endeavouring to be useful to mankind both as a
scholar and divine. To keep himself independent he
became corrector of the press to Mr Bowyer, printer : and
was indeed one of the most accurate of any who ever took
upon him that laborious employ. He has given us a
curious edition of lord Bacon's works, 1740. As I had the
happiness of being long known to my most valuable
friend, he was so kind to communicate the following par-
ticulars. That Opprobrium Historian, Burnet's Memoirs,
were first put into his hands to be corrected for Bowyer's
press. But the honest sons of the bishop made shame-
fully free with their father's manuscript. Mr Blackburn
shewed some pages left out, relating to the prince of
Orange, where his character was more at large and better
drawn, more to truth and life. Several sheet 3 concerning
the Scots especially left out. As he was too honest to
deal with such as have no honesty, he advised Mr Bowyer
to be concerned no further in the impression : so it was
taken out of his hands. This good man for several years
past lias been a non-juring bishop equal to most of our
bench. I waited on him often in Little Britain, where
he lived almost lost to the world, and hid amongst old
books. One clay, before dinner, he went to his bureau
and took out a paper. It was a copy of the testimonial
sent to king James (as he called him), signed by his lord-
ship (Winchelsea) and two others (I think) in his behalf.
He afterwards shewed me the commission for his conse-

BLACKBURNE. 471

cration. Upon this I begged his blessing, which he gave
me with the fervent zeal and devotion of a primitive
bishop. I asked him if I was so happy as to belong to
his diocese ? His answer was (I thought) very remark-
able : dear friend, (said he) we leave the sees open, that
the gentlemen who now unjustly possess them, upon the
restoration, may, if they please, return to their duty, and
be continued. We content ourselves with full episcopal
power as suffragans."

He also edited Bale's Chronycle concerning syr Johan
Oldecastle, 1729; aud Holinshed's Chronicle. (Seethe
Lives of Hickes, Collier, and Brett.) — Lathbury. History of
Xon-jurors. Nichols's Boinjer.

Blackburne, Franxis, was born at Richmond, in York-
shire, June 9, 1705, and was educated at Catherine hall,
Cambridge. He was candidate for a fellowship, but failed
to obtain it, either from incompetence of learning or
because of his maintaining, with juvenile vanity, the prin-
ciples of Locke and Hoadley. He was ordained in 1739,
and soon after became rector of Richmond. At this time
the tendency in unstable minds was to "go over"' to
Socinianism and dissent : with the heretics Blackburne
warmly sympathized, but he never seceded. His reasons
for not going over, as was expected, may be given in his
own words. Like many egotists, he thought he could
eulogise or vindicate himself more modestly, and at the
same time write about himself more fully, by writing in
the third person.

"Mr Blackburne had his objections to the liturgy and
articles of the church of England, as well as Mr Lindsey,
and in some instances to the same passages, but differed
widely from him on some particular points, which, he
thought, as stated by Mr Lindsey and his friends, could
receive no countenance from Scripture, unless by a licen-
tiousness of interpretation that could not be justified. But
Dr Priestley and some of his friends having carried the
obligation to secede from the church of England farther

472 BLACKBURNE

than Mr Blackburne thought was either sufficiently can
did, charitable, or modest, and having thereby given coun-
tenance to the reproach, thrown upon many moderate and
worthy men, by hot and violent conformists, for continu-
ing to minister in the Church, while they disapproved
many things in her doctrine and discipline, he thought it
expedient, in justice to himself and others of the same
sentiments, to give some check to the crude censures that
had been passed upon them. And, accordingly, intending
to publish ' Four Discourses' delivered to the clergy of the
archdeaconry of Cleveland, in the years 1767, 1769, 1771,
and 1773, he took that opportunity to explain himself on
this subject in a preface, as well on behalf of the sececlers,
as of those whose Christian principles admitted of their
remaining in the Church without offering violence to their
consciences." — Of Dr Priestley's conduct he speaks yet
more decidedly in a letter dated Jan. 4, 1770, to a dis-
senting minister, — " I cannot think the dissenters will be
universally pleased with Dr Priestley's account of their
principles ; not to mention that some degree of mercy
seemed to be due to us, who have shown our benevolence
to all protestant dissenters, and have occasionally asserted
their rights of conscience with the utmost freedom. But
no, it seems nothing will do but absolute migration from
our present stations, in agreement with our supposed con-
victions ; though, perhaps, it might puzzle Dr Priestley
to find us another church, in which all of us would be at
our ease, &c." On the secession of Dr Disney from the
Church, a circumstance which appears to have given him
great uneasiness, he went so far as to draw up a paper
under the title " An answer to the question, Why are you
not a Socinian?" but this, although now added to his
works, was not published in his life-time, from motives of
delicacy. He had been suspected, from his relationship
and intimacy with Mr Lindsey and Dr Disney, of hold-
ing the same sentiments with them, and his object in the
above paper was to vindicate his character in that respect.
Still, as it did not appear in his life- time, it could not

BLACKBURXE. 47 :■;

answer that purpose, and although we are now told that
some time before his death, he explicitly asserted to his
relation, the Rev Mr Comber, his belief in the divinity
of Christ, the suspicions of the public had undoubtedly
some foundation in the silence which in all his writ-
ings he preserved respecting a point of so much im-
portance."

His first publication appeared in 1749, entitled. An
Apology for the Free and Candid Disquisitions relating to
the church of England ; it was a defence of a work written
by a Socinianizer, the Rev John Jones, vicar of Aleon-
bury, suggesting certain alterations in the liturgy. Black-
burne was himself suspected of being the author of the
Disquisitions, of which the manuscript had been submitted
to his inspection. Blackbume, however, denied that he
had any hand in the publication, and his biographer
assigns the reasons :

" The truth," says he, "is, Mr Blackburne, whatever
desire he might have to forward the work of ecclesiastical
reformation, could not possibly conform his style to the
milky phraseology of the ' Disquisitions,' nor could he
be content to have his sentiments mollified by the gentle
qualifications of Mr Jones's lenient pen. He was rather
(perhaps too much) inclined to look upon those who had
in their hands the means and the power of reforming the
errors, defects, and abuses, in the government, forms of
worship, faith and discipline, of the established church.
as guilty of a criminal negligence, from which they should
have been roused by sharp and spirited expostulations.
He thought it became disquisitors, with a cause in hand
of such high importance to the influence of vital Chris-
tianity, rather to have boldly forced the utmost resentment
of the class of men to which they addressed their work,
than, by meanly truckling to their arrogance, to derive
upon themselves their ridicule and contempt, which all
the world saw was the case of these gentle suggesters,
and all the return they had for the civility of their
application.""
2b 2

474 BLACKBURNE.

Notwithstanding his hostility to Church principles, or
perhaps in that age, for that very reason, Blackburne had
first been appointed to a rectory, and now, though the
friend and patron of heretics and schismatics, he was in
1750 appointed to the archdeaconry of Cleveland. Perhaps
it was thought expedient to prefer him, to prevent his
secession, when so many wrere going over to dissent. He
ventured to attack the charge which the great and good
Dr Butler, then bishop of Durham, delivered to his clergy
in 1751. Archdeacon Blackburne, the associate and
friend of those who refused to worship the God of Chris-
tians, was roused to indignation because a Christian
bishop asserted doctrines, in the archdeacon's opinion,
diametrically opposite to the principles on which the
protestant reformation was founded. He published his
attack anonymously in 175^, under the title of a Seri-
ous Enquiry into the use and importance of External
Religion.

He employed himself in several minor publications
more or less heretical, and none of them of any intrinsic
value, until 1757, when Dr Powell, of St John's college,
Cambridge, published a sermon on subscription to the
liturgy and thirty-nine articles, in which he maintained
that latitude wTas to be allowed to subscribers even so far
as to admit of the assent and consent of different persons
to different and even opposite opinions, according to their
different interpretations of the propositions to be sub-
scribed. On this sermon Blackburne published remarks.
In his autobiography he gives us his sentiments on the
subject of subscription.

" When he took possession of the living of Richmond,
he had been engaged in a way of life that did not give
him time or opportunity to reflect upon subjects of that
nature with precision; and though, upon taking his first
preferment, be determined conscientiously to perform the
duties of it, yet he was by no means aware of the diffi-
culties that afterwards embarrassed him in qualifying
himself for holding; it. He, therefore, then subscribed as

BLACKBURNE. 475

directed by law, without scruple, and without apprehend-
ing the obligation he laid himself under, according to the
form, of giving his assent and consent to the whole system
of the Church. When the same form was to be sub-
scribed to qualify him to hold the archdeaconry and
prebend, he consulted some of his friends, arid particularly
Dr Law (afterwards bishop of Carlisle), who gave him his
opinion at large, containing such reasons, as had occurred
to himself on the several occasions he had to undergo that
discipline. He was likewise referred to Dr Clarke's In-
troduction to his Scripture Doctrine of the Trinity : and
lastly, to the sixth article of the church of England ; all
which appeared plausible enough to satisfy him, for that
time, that with these salvos and modifications, he might
safely subscribe to the prescribed forms. Some time after-
wards, however, upon a prospect of farther advancement
to a considerable preferment, he took occasion to re-
consider these arguments, and thought they fell short of
giving that satisfaction which an honest man would wish
to have, when he pledges his good faith to society in so
solemn a form as that prescribed by the thirty-sixth canon,
enjoining subscription to the articles and liturgical forms
of the church of England.

" In this situation of mind, he set himself to examine
into the rise and progress of this requisition in protestant
churches, and into the arguments brought in defence, or
rather in excuse of it ; the result of which was the compi-
lation since known by the name of the ' Confessional, or a
full and free enquiry into the right, utility, and success
of establishing confessions of faith and doctrine in pro-
testant churches.' This work lay by him in manuscript
for some years. He had communicated his plan to Dr
Edmund Law, who encouraged him greatly in the pro-
gress of it, and appears by many letters in the course of
their correspondence to have been extremely impatient to
have it published. The fair copy, however, was never
seen by any of the author's acquaintance, one confidential
friend excepted, who spoke of its existence and contents to

476 BLACKLOE.

the late patriotic Thomas Hollis, esq. to whom the author
at this time was not personally known. Mr Hollis men-
tioned this manuscript to Mr Andrew Millar, the book-
seller, who in 1763, intending a summer excursion to visit
his friends in Scotland, was desired by Mr Hollis to call
upon Mr Blackburne at Richmond, where, after some
conversation, the manuscript was consigned to Mr Millar's
care for publication, and accordingly came out in the
spring of 1766. The only condition made with Mr Millar
was, that the author's name should be concealed."

Such was the origin of The Confessional, a work which
became celebrated from the controversy it excited, and
which lasted from 1766 to 177-2, when it seemed to be
renewed with fresh vigor, in consequence of an application
made to parliament by the ultra-protestant party for relief
in the matter of subscription. The seceders to Socinian-
ism, and persons tempted to go over, were at this time the
persons who objected to the thirty-nine articles. In the
controversy relating to The Confessional between seventy
and eighty pamphlets were published, and what is extraor-
dinary, most of them anonymously. Not above ten or twelve
came out with the names of the writers attached to them.
Of some of them the authorship is attributed to Blackburne.

In his latter years his character seems to have softened,
and he spoke of some of the verities, of Christianity, con-
cerning which he had been supposed to be sceptical, as if
he were a believer. He died in 1787. — Life by his Son.
Nichols's Literary Anecdotes.

Blackloe, Thomas, was a professor of theology in the
popish college of Douay, and was afterwards one of the
chapter formed in London by Bishop, the first Romish
prelate in England. — (See his Life.) — He assumed an in-
dependent position, and formed a party in the chapter
against Smith, the successor of Bishop, and procured his
banishment from England in 16-28. Against Gage also,
who succeeded Smith, Blackloe waged war until he com-
pelled him to resign the office of vicar- apostolic. Bering-

BLACKLOE. 477

ton, the E,oman catholic, thus speaks of Blackloe: ''He
was a man of uncommon learning ; but his sentiments
were often paradoxical, and he took a wanton pleasure in
departing from the received idiom of the schools. Having
taught much in our foreign seminaries, he had acquired
many friends, the admirers of his virtues, rather than the
followers of his opinions. These opinions excited a gene-
ral notice, and the ignorant, and the malevolent, and the
bigoted taking the alarm, represented the author as a
dangerous innovator, and more than unstable in his faith.
The whole body was divided ; but moderate men and men
of learning would not sacrifice to the cries of ignorance the
reputation of a person, whose extreme errors were the mere
extravagances of genius. Dr Holden came forward in his
defence : ' You know,' says he to a friend, ' the greatest
part of his adversaries (I mean those whose profession is
to judge of such things ; for the laity, in matters of doc-
trine belonging to religion, ought to be hearers and
learners, not teachers or judges) are brought up in your
private seminaries ; and thence easily conceive, whatever
they hear, either opposite to, or unmentioned in their
master's dictates, to be erroneous. Whereas, if they knew
the latitude of our most learned men's singular, and some-
times new-invented or renewed opinions, daily maintained,
and problematically disputed, in our public schools, with-
out the least suspicion of their integrity in catholic belief,
they would not (if no way blinded with passion) so slightly
shoot their censuring bolts at random, especially against
a brother, and such a brother.' This he wrote from
Paris in 1057, where, as I before observed, he always
resided. But the tongues of such adversaries could
not be bridled, and the leading men amongst the clergy,
the heads, particularly, of the chapter, were stigmatised as
the abettors of error under the appellation of Blacldoisis.
Mr Blackloe finally submitted his writings to the judgment
of the holy see."

Among his works are : Institutiones Ethicoe, 1660, in
which an attack is made upon the Jesuits, and they pro-

478 BLACKWELL.

cured a censure upon it from the faculty of theology at
Douay. De Medio Animarum Statu, in which he denies
that the prayers of the faithful can have any effect in re-
leasing souls from purgatory. This treatise made a good
deal of noise, and its purgatorial and other doctrines were
branded in print as the Blackloan heresy. De Obediential
et Gubernationis Fundamentis, a work written in favour
of Cromwell, and condemned by parliament, 1660. — Ber-
ingtons Memoirs of Panzani. Dod.

Blackwell, George, was born in Middlesex, in 1545,
and on the 27th of May, 1562, was admitted a scholar of
Trinity college, Oxford, of which college he became a
fellow in 1566, taking his MA. degree in 1567. Here he
became a Rouianizer, and at lerigth quitted the catholic
church of England, but without at first joining the Romish
sect in this country. After his perversion he resided for
several years at Rome, and there, by his learning and
good conduct, he conciliated the friendship of cardinal
Bellarmine, father Parsons, and other eminent persons.
He afterwards returned to England, and here his history
becomes blended with the general history of the country.
It is in these days so very important that the precise
position of the Romish sect should be clearly understood,
that in addition to what has been already stated in the
life of Dr Bishop, we shall here enter more fully upon its
history. The early history of the English sect is given
by a Roman catholic clergyman, formerly of Oscott, in his
introduction to the memoirs of Panzani, to whom refer-
ence has been made in a former article. His statements
have been condensed and ably brought together by the
Rev Leicester Darwall, in his " Outline of the ecclesiasti-
cal transactions of the English Romanists." The writer
of the present article having compared the narratives of
Berington and Darwall with the documents published by
Dod and Tierney, will only abbreviate the narrative of
Darwall in what follows.

Shortly after the accession of queen Elizabeth, ten

3LACKWELL. 479

of the dioceses had become vacant by death, so that
there were only sixteen bishops remaining in the church.
Of these, Kitchin of LlandafF was the only one who
acknowledged the queen's supremacy ; the other fifteen
refused to take the oath and were deprived. Their
names were — Heath (Archbishop York), Bonner (London),
Tunstall (Durham), Goldwell (St. Asaph), Pates (Worces-
ter), Oglethorpe (Carlisle), Watson (Lincoln), Thirlby
(Ely), White (Winchester), Bourne (Wells), Bayne (Lich-
field), Morgan (St. David's), Poole (Peterborough), Turber-
ville (Exeter), and Man (I. of Man). Two of them, Pates
and Goldwell left the country; Oglethorpe, Bayne, and
Morgan died soon after their deprivation ; while Watson
of Lincoln who outlived the rest, survived till 1584. He
and White, after a short confinement, obtained their
liberty, though the former was finally committed to Wis-
beach Castle, being accused of practising against the
state. Bonner who — besides being, with Thirlby, acces-
sary to the murder of his metropolitan — had glutted him-
self with innocent blood, was imprisoned for life in the
Marshalsea, — a fate sufficiently lenient. As for the rest,
some lived with the reformed bishops, — others retired to
live and die upon their owTn estates or among their
friends, as they pleased. All quietly submitted to the
sentence passed upon them, and took no steps to continue
their succession, which therefore ended, so far as they
were concerned, with Bishop Watson.

With regard to the rest of the clergy, we read that out
of 9,400, only 175 lost their preferments, for refusing
either to take the oath, or to conform to the public
liturgy ; though it appears that after a while others sur-
rendered their livings, wiien they found that no change
favourable to their wishes was to be expected. Among
the laity of all ranks, many remained Romanists at heart ;
though the great body of the nation, from whatever mo-
tives, conformed, frequenting the public service of the
Church. " And in this service,'" (to use the words of
Mr Berington,) "it must be allowed, when it came to be

480 BLACKWELL.

regularly organized, there was a decency and a dignity,
well adapted to the sedate and philosophic character of
the English people The churches were the same, the
orders of the hierarchy remained, and, what was calculated
to conciliate the multitude, the communion table was
placed where the altar stood, music was retained, all the
old festivals, with their eves, were observed ; the dress of
the officiating ministry only was changed to a less gaudy
and garish vesture. The use of the English language also,
when the first impression was effaced, greatly contributed
to attach the people to it ; as did the admission of the
laity to the cup."

So all passed on for about ten years, till the bull of
excommunication was issued against Elizabeth by Pius V,
(anno 1569); and it is not improbable but that the pru-
dent and temperate measures of the queen would, by
God's blessing, have brought all the nation to one faith,
and caused the schism to wear itself out, had it not been
for the deprived clergy, who being men of ardent minds,
and disappointed in their views of preferment, and hostile
to the altered state of things, withdrew to the continent,
and were received as professors or students in the univer-
sities and monasteries, particularly of France, Flanders,
and Italy.

The guide of these voluntary exiles and the soul of
their plans was William (afterwards the famous cardinal)
Allen or Alan, — (See his Life) — the first who relinquished
his preferments. In the year 1568, the tenth of Elizabeth,
having drawn together many learned men who had been
educated at Oxford and Cambridge, but were now scat-
tered over the continent, he laid the foundation of a col-
lege or seminary at Douay in Flanders, then subject to
the Spanish crown. This was succeeded by other estab-
lishments in Italy, Spain, and France. The chief design
of these establishments was to perpetuate a succession of
clergy, and to supply England with pastors of the Romish
persuasion, as the old priests should die off. It seems
however not unlikely that ::^crs tended to

BLACKWELL. 481

discourage the bishops at home, and possibly lead to the
extinction of their succession. " Seeing themselves desert-
ed.'" says Mr Berington, " and hearing of foreign plans to
which much praise was given, and on which the most
sanguine hopes were founded, they persevered in the
habits of retirement they had chosen, and entertained, it
seems, no thoughts of perpetuating their hierarchy, or
providing for days to come."

In a few years the number of those who came back to
this country was considerable ; and had they returned (as
we would fain hope many of them did) actuated by a pure
zeal of religion, and with sentiments of allegiance to their
sovereign, they might have exercised their ministry un-
molested. But father Parsons had now set his hand to
the work, " a man," says Mr Berington, " with the sound
of whose name are associated intrigue, devise, stratagem,
and all the crooked policy of the Machiavelian school."

The secular clergy of the Eomish sect in England
unanimously resolved to present a supplication to the
pope, praying him to restore them an ecclesiastical hier-
archy in the government of bishops, " which bishops
should be elected by the common consent of the clergy,
and appointed by them to different districts." This took
place about the year 1597. The Jesuits however were by
no means disposed to allow this project to pass without
opposition, nor were they at a loss for means to accom-
plish their end. Father Parsons was then in Spain, but
no sooner was he informed of the proceedings of the clergy
than he hastened to Piome. In the mean time, his faction
at home, to lull the clergy into security, loudly applauded
their design, while secretly they laboured to draw off some
of them to their own side. They succeeded in gaining
over Mr Blackwell, who consented to write a letter pur-
porting that " for twenty years there had been no dissen-
sion between the secular priests and the Jesuits ; ^hat the
reports stating the ambition of those fathers, were so far
from the truth, that, on the contrary, the Jesuits were in
VOL. ii. 2 s

L89 BLACKWELL.

all places most notable examples of humility, gentleness,
patience, piety and charity." This testimonial was com-
mitted to the care of Mr Stan dish, another clergyman
whom they had won over, and with him dispatched to
Rome.

"Father Parsons,'' to use Mr Darwall's words, "had
now the game in his own hands." On the arrival of
Standish at Rome, he presented him, with two clergymen,
to Clement VIII, as the deputies from the secular priests
in England. They presented their letter, entreating the
pope "that he would kindly deign to appoint a superior
over the English church, for so great were the dissensions
between the secular priests and the laity, that many in-
conveniences necessarily must follow, unless one were
placed over them, who by his authority might reconcile
and reform them." Clement asked with surprise — " Doth
what you have said proceed from the desire and consent
of my loving priests in England ?" Standish replied :
" What we have presumed to offer to your holiness, is
done by the most assured and unanimous consent of our
brethren."

The pope, thus deceived, committed the business to
cardinal Cajetan, then protector of the English nation,
and cardinal Borghese. The former being familiarly con-
nected with father Parsons, entrusted him with the
arrangement of the measure, and by his superior authority
overruled his colleague.

Parsons was not long at fault. It was expedient for
him to yield, in some degree, to the wishes of the clergy,
or they would soon be at Rome with their supplication,
when his plot would be discovered, and perhaps frus-
trated. On the other hand, it would never do to allow
them to have a bishop for their superior, as this would
annul the project he had formed for the elevation of his
own order, whose constitutions exclude them from the
mitre. To combine these two objects — the silencing of
the clergy, and the giving increased power into the hands

BLACKWELL. 488

of the Jesuits — it occurred to hini that the appointment
of an archpriest would be the most desirable plan. He
therefore recommended Blackwell to the cardinals as a
suitable person for that office. They approved his choice ;
and it was determined that he should be nominated
superior over the clergy of England and Scotland, with
the title of archpriest. This was in 1598. In a MS.
Relation presented by the regulars to Benedict XIV,
about the year 1750, the transaction is thus stated:
" That Clement VIII, greatly incensed that the clergy
should have aimed to establish an independent hierarchy
among themselves, and when he knew that the govern-
ment of bishops was neither necessary nor useful to the
catholics, commanded the protector to appoint an arch
priest with assistants."

It is plain, then, that the archpriest was a very imper-
fect and insufficient substitute for a bishop. So the
secular clergy thought ; and, though meeting with many
rebuffs, they persevered in petitioning, till at length their
wish was, in a manner, granted. For the present, how-
ever, the Jesuits had their way ; and, though to appoint
the archpriest from their own body would be too palpable
and be offensive to many, yet they obtained their end
so far as to procure the selection of one who was attached
to their party, and to prohibit him, with the twelve
assistants who were allowed him, "from determining
any matter of importance without advising with the supe-
rior of the Jesuits" (at that time the distinguished Henry
Garnet), " and some others of the order."

But it was with no contented feelings that the clergy
heard of the decision of the court of Rome. Great indeed
was their resentment when they found how they had been
over- reached and insulted, and when the archpriest
arrived, declaring his title and power and demanding
their submission. They felt satisfied that the whole was
a contrivance of father Parsons, and that the pope and
protector had been imposed upon. They therefore re-
quested that they might not be urged to admit the aiitho-

484 BLACKWELL.

rity of the archpriest, till it should be confirmed by an
express brief, or till the pleasure of the pope were signified
to them. Upon this, Blackwell, in conjunction with father
Garnet, immediately dispatched agents through the king-
dom, to collect signatures to a letter of thanks to the pope
and cardinal for that " excellent form of government"
they had established over them. Several, influenced by
promises or threats, gave their names, and a messenger
set out for Rome. In the meantime, the heads of the clergy
concerted their plans of opposition, aud determined on
sending two of their body to lay their complaints before
the pope. They made choice of Dr Bishop and Mr Char-
nock, who took with them a Remonstrance, the chief heads
of which were, " That the government of an archpriest
for a whole nation seemed unprecedented and extra-
ordinary ; that it did not answer the ends of the mission,
especially as to the sacrament of confirmation ; that the
divine institution required a hierarchy in every national
church: that the measures of the appointment were taken
by misinformation and surreptitious means; that the chief
persons among the clergy had neither been advised with,
nor had they consented, as the court of Rome had been
made to believe ; that the whole derogated from the
dignity of the clergy ; that it was a contrivance of father
Parsons and the Jesuits, who had the liberty to nominate
both the archpriest and his assistants ; that the cardinal
protector's letter, without an express bull from his holi-
ness, was not sufficient to make so remarkable an altera-
tion in the government of the church : that the archpriest
being ordered to advise with the Jesuits in all matters re-
lating to the clergy, was an unbecoming restraint upon
their body, and without a precedent. For these, and such
like reasons, they beg leave to demur in their obedience to
the archpriest, till his authority shall be more legally
established."

Thus the letter of thanks to the court of Rome, which
was sent at the instance of Blackwell, was soon followed
by less pleasing information, announcing the opposition

BLACKWELL.

to the archpriest, and stating that two agents from the
clergy were actually on their way to Home. Having
reached their destination about the beginning of 1599,
they presented themselves before the cardinals Cajetan
and Borghese. What their reception was we may imagine
from the circumstance that at night they were arrested
in their lodgings, and conducted under a guard of soldiers
to the Roman college, where father Parsons presided.
They were by him separately examined ; after which,
being again admitted to the cardinals, they underwent
another interrogatory, and were reconducted to prison,
where they remained four months, before they were al-
lowed to return homewards.

" Such, thus far," says Mr Berington, "was the issue of
a solemn deputation from the Roman catholic clergy of
England to his holiness Clement VIII !"

But the pope seemed now to be sensible that in author-
izing the cardinal protector to appoint an archpriest, lie
had departed from precedent, and that the measure
must be amended. He therefore issued a brief, dated
April Oth, 1599, confirming whatever the cardinal had
enacted, and superadding the usual mandates of a papal
decree.

This brief restored tranquillity for a season, which was
not however of long continuance. It forced obedience from
the Romish clergy, but it could uot reconcile them to all its
injunctions. They could not endure having their concerns
subjected to the Jesuits, nor could they thus submit to
the harsh conduct of the archpriest, who was wont to
exert a power, which his commission, it seems, did not
always warrant. The result was another appeal to Rome
against the oppression and maladministration of their
superior, bearing date November 17th, 1600. It was
signed by thirty-three priests in the name of themselves,
of their brother priests, and of the Romish laity. This
was followed nine months after by another brief from the
pope, addressed to Blackwell and the clergy, confirming
2 s %

486 BLACKWELL.

the office of archpriest, suppressing their various publica-
tions against each other, and exhorting both parties to
peace and charity.

Though Mr Berington admits that the general sen-
timents of this brief cannot be too much admired, yet
he owns he is disgusted by those clauses of authority
" wherein a pope of Rome takes upon himself to regulate
the civil conduct .... of British subjects in their mode
of writing or treating a private matter of controversy ....
But why send delegates ; or why appeal to this distant
court, unless in circumstances against which no private
church has a remedy, and for which the canons of general
discipline have not provided ?" — Why ? indeed !

The clergy, however, finding a continuance of the arbi-
trary and oppressive conduct of the archpriest, again
determined, after some months, to apply to Borne. Dele-
gates were therefore sent, who procured a third brief from
the pope, dated October 5th, 160-2. It was addressed to
the archpriest, and begins with admonishing him to use
his power discreetly, and not to exceed his commission ;
it forbids him, in transacting the duties of his charge, to
communicate or treat with the provincial of the Jesuits,
or any member of that society, and annuls the instruc-
tions of the late cardinal protector about that matter. It
also condemns all books written against the society, or
against any persons of either party, and closes with a suit-
able exhortation to brotherly charity and unity. Thus
was the contention terminated ; and all the clergy were
unanimous in their obedience to the archpriest, as long as
that economy lasted.

The designs of father Parsons to alter the succession to
the crown in favour of Spain have been already alluded
to. So insecure indeed did the government of Elizabeth
feel on account of the numerous plots set on foot and
fomented by the Jesuits and seminary priests (whose
foreign education extinguished every spark of loyalty), that
it was found expedient to enact very severe laws against

BLACKWELL. 48T

them. On November 5th, 1602, the queen, by a procla-
mation, banished their party from the kingdom, forbidding
them, under pain of death, ever to return to England ;
but to such clergy as would give a true profession of their
allegiance she signified her desire to show favour and in-
dulgence. This was eagerly embraced by some of the
leading clergy, who came forward with a Protestation of
Allegiance, bearing date January 31st, 1603, in which they
avowed their loyalty and their readiness to obey her in all
temporal matters.

The address was signed by thirteen only out of about
four hundred secular priests. Queen Elizabeth soon
after died.

It is the opinion of Mr Berington that if the Romanists
in a body had, on the accession of king James, come
forward with the Protestation of Allegiance, "we should,
probably, have heard no more of recusancy or penal pro-
secution." The king entertained a good will towards them,
and thought he could look for political support from
them, should circumstances call for it ; but in the creed
of the majority — of the ministers, at least — he knew
that there was a principle admitted — that of the pope's
deposing power — which would ill accord with the royal
prerogative. He charged them also with holding the
doctrine of assassinating and murdering kings, as think-
ing it no sin, but rather a matter of salvation for sub-
jects to rebel against their sovereign, if discharged of
their allegiance by the pope. In this view he would
be confirmed by the occasion of the Gunpowder Plot,
contrived by Catesby and his desperate associates, for the
destruction of himself and his parliament, November 5th,
1605.

Notwithstanding this, James was aware that there were
many among the Piomanists whose principles were sound
and loyal, though some of them, from conscientious
scruples, objected to the Oath of Supremacy : he there-
fore desired to offer them a political test, which would
show the government who might safely be trusted. Ac-

48S BLACKWELL.

cordingly, in the following year, an Oath of Allegiance
was framed, to which it was thought every Romanist
would cheerfully submit, who did not believe that the
bishop of Rome had power to depose kings and give away
their kingdoms. The oath was accordingly taken by
many, both clergy and laity; " and a ray of returning
happiness gleamed around them. But," says Mr Bering-
ton, "a cloud soon gathered on the seven hills; for it
could not be that a Test, the main object of which was
an explicit rejection of the deposing power \ should not
raise vapours there." The pope at that time was Paul V,
the late cardinal Borghese. To him the oath was pre-
sented by father Parsons: after deliberation he condemned
it, in a brief addressed to the English Romanists, ■• as
containing many things obviously adverse to faith and
salvation."

Previous to this Blackwell, though at first opposed to
it, argued in favour of the oath ; and even after a second
papal brief re-asserting its unlawfulness, he persisted in
maintaining and defending the opinion he had taken up.
The opposition to the oath was purely factious, for it had
been drawn up with the benevolent view of diverting
popular odium from the English Romanists, by enabling
them to disclaim upon oath such exfravagant political
principles as some members of the church of Rome had
advocated.

Bellarmine, Blackwell's former friend, had remonstrated
with him on his acceptance of the oath and for correspond-
ing with him without permission of the government;
Blackwell was apprehended June 24th, 1607. He was
detained in close custody twelve days, during eight of
which he underwent very rigorous examinations at Lam-
beth, before a board of commissioners. They examined
him at great length, and elicited from him a series of
judgments adverse to the political pretensions of Rome.
The particulars of this examination were immediately
published, under the following title, — " The large exam-
ination taken at Lambeth, according to his majesty's

BLACKWALL. 489

direction, point by point, of Mr George Blackwell, made
archpriest of England by pope Clement VIII, upon occa-
sion of an answer of his, without the privity of the state,
to a letter lately sent to him by cardinal Bellarmine,
blaming him for taking the Oath of Allegiance, together
with the cardinal's letter, and Mr Blackwell s letter to the
Romish Catholics in England, as well ecclesiastical as
lay. Imprinted at London, by Robert Barker, printer to
the king's most excellent majesty, 1607." Afterwards
Blackwell addressed a second letter to the English Ro-
manists, repeating his approbation of the oath, and advis-
ing them to take it, even to the neglect of papal briefs.
This was too much for the endurance of Rome ; and in
1608 he was superseded, George Birket, a clergyman of
more conciliatory manners, being appointed archpriest.
Blackwell died suddenly, January 12th, 1612. — DariraU.
Berington. Docl. Tierney. Butler. Collier.

Blackwall, Anthony, was bom in Derbyshire, in 1674,
and educated as a sizar at Emanuel college, Cambridge,
where he took the degree of AM. in 1698, soon after
which he became master of the free-school at Derby, and
lecturer of All-Hallows in the same town. In 1722, he
removed to Market-Bosworth, in Leicestershire, on being
appointed master of the grammar-school there. In 1726
he was presented to the rectory of Clapham, in Surrey,
which he resigned in 1729, and died the year following,
at Market-Bosworth. He published Theognidis Magaren-
sis Sentential Morales Nova Latina versione : an Introduc-
tion to the Classics, 12mo ; Sacred Classics defended and
illustrated, 2 vols, 4to and 8vo. The design of the latter
work is to vindicate the sacred writers of the New Testa-
ment from the charge of inelegance in respect of style,
and to show that passages which have been adduced as
instances of incorrect composition may be justified by the
usage of classical authority. The work was useful in the
last century, though the idea seems scarcely reverent to
those who ascribe the authorship of the Bible to the Holy

490 BLAIR.

Ghost. He published also a Latin grammar. — Aikin.
Nichols.

Blair, James, was born and bred in Scotland, and
ordained and beneficed in the episcopal church there ; but
meeting with some discouragements under an unsettled
state of affairs, and having a prospect of discharging his
ministerial function more usefully elsewhere, he quitted
his preferments, and came into England near the end of
Charles the Second's reign. It was not long before he
was taken notice of by Compton, bishop of London, who
prevailed with him to go as missionary to Virginia, about
1685; where, by exemplary conduct, and unwearied la-
bours in the work of the ministry, he did good service to
religion, and gained to himself a good report amongst all :
so that bishop Compton being well apprised of his worth,
made choice of him, about 1689, as his commissary for
Virginia, the highest office in the church there ; which,
however, did not take him off from his pastoral care, but
only rendered him the more shining example of it to the
rest of the clergy.

While his thoughts were intent upon doing good in his
office, he observed with concern that the want of schools,
and proper seminaries for religion and learning, so im-
peded all attempts for the propagation of the gospel, that
little could be hoped for, without first removing that ob-
stacle. He therefore formed a vast design of erecting and
endowing a college in Virginia, at Williamsburgh, the
capital of that country, for professors and students in
academical learning : in order to which, he had himself
set on foot a voluntary subscription, amounting to a great
sum ; and, not content with that, came over into England
in 1693, to solicit the affair at court. Queen Mary was
so well pleased with the noble design, that she espoused it
with a particular zeal ; and king William also very readily
concurred with her in it. Accordingly a patent passed
for erecting and endowing a college, by the name of the
William and Mary college ; and Mr Blair, who had the

BLAIR. 491

principal hand in laying, soliciting, and concerting the
design, was appointed president of the college. He was
besides rector of Williamsburgh, in Virginia, and presi-
dent of the council in that colony. He continued president
of the college near fifty, and a minister of the gospel
above sixty years. He was a faithful labourer in God's
vineyard, an ornament to his profession, and his several
offices ; and in a good old age went to enjoy the high
prize of his calling, in the year 1743. His works are:
" Our Saviour's divine sermon on the mount explained;
and the practice of it recommended in divers sermons and
discourses," London, 174*2, 4 vols, 8vo. The executors of
Dr Bray (to whom the author had previously transferred his
copyright) afterwards published a new impression, revised
and corrected. Dr Waterland, who wrote a preface to the
new edition, calls these sermons a " valuable treasure of
sound divinity and practical Christianity." — Chalmers.

Blair, John, was born in the county of Fife, in Scot-
land, in the 13th century, was educated at the school of
Dundee with the celebrated sir William Wallace. On
leaving school, Blair went to Paris to study theology,
became a monk of the order of St Benedict, and changed
his name of John into that of x\rnold. On his return to
Scotland, he went to reside at the monastery of Dum-
ferling, where he remained till the year 1294, when
Wallace having been appointed governor of the kingdom,
Blair became his chaplain. He wrote the history of his
life, in 1327, in Latin verse ; a fragment only of this
poem remains in the Cottonian library, which was pub-
lished in 1705, by sir Robert Sibbald, the celebrated
botanist. It is translated in Hume's history of the
Douglasses. The time of this author's death is unknown.
— Makenzie's Scots Writers.

Blair, Hugh, was born at Edinburgh, April 7, 1718.
Being destined for a preacher in the presbyterian estab-
lishment, he was sent from the High-school to the college

492 BLAIR.

of Edinburgh, where he took his degree of M. A. in 1739,
and two years afterwards was licensed to preach. His
first living was Colessie, in the county of Fife, and in
1743 he became minister of the Canongate church, Edin-
burgh, where he continued eleven years, and was then
removed to Lady Yester's, one of the city churches. In
1758 he was raised to the High-church of Edinburgh,
where he continued the rest of his life. In 1759, at which
time he had obtained the degree of DD. from St Andrew's,
he projected a course of lectures on composition, which he
accordingly read in the university with such reputation,
that, in 1762, a professorship of rhetoric and belles lettres
was founded for him by king George III, with a salary of
seventy pounds a year. About this time he distinguished
himself as the zealous advocate of the poems of Ossian, in
a " Dissertation prefixed to those pretended fragments of
Gaelic antiquity." In 1776 he was prevailed with to pub-
lish a volume of sermons. The sale was so rapid that the
author was induced to publish three more volumes, and a
fifth was prepared by him for the press a little before his
death. Nothing serves to shew the low state of religion in
the middle of the last century, more than the popularity of
these sermons, the polished productions of a superficial man
of literature, equally deficient in the knowledge of the law
and of the gospel. They were acceptable to all denomina-
tions, and even in the church of England the sermons of
the presbyterian latitudinarian were freely circulated. He
received a pension of two hundred a year, through the
influence of queen Charlotte. In 1783 Dr Blair resigned
his professorship, and the same year published his " Lec-
tures,'' which have gone through several editions, and
though superficial, are calculated to fix his reputation more
permanently than his sermons. His last publication .was
a discourse delivered in 1796 before the society of the sons
of the clergy in Scotland. He died at Edinburgh, Decem-
ber 27th, 1800. Dr Blair married, in 1748, his cousin
Katherine Bannatine, by whom he had two children, who
died before their parents. — Life by Dr Finlayson.

BLAND. 493

Blaise, bishop of Sebaste, in Armenia, martyred by
Agricola, governor of Cappadocia and of the Lesser
Armenia, about the year 316. His fame is of long stand-
ing in the East ; but the West cared little or nothing for
him until an importation of his relics by the crusaders.
These acquired a high character for miraculous cures,
especially of children and cattle, and sore throats. His
acts, written in Greek, have a very slender authority. He
is the principal patron of the commonwealth of Ragusa.
Why the wool-combers chose him as their patron is not
very apparent, — whether because the first hint of their
manufacture was brought from the East, or because of
the iron combs with which he is said to have been tor-
mented.— Moreri. Butler.

Blampin, Thomas, was born at Noyon, in 1640, and
becoming a Benedictine of the congregation of St Maur,
was selected by his superiors to complete the edition of
St Augustine, which had been commenced by Francis
Delfau. This important work was published between the
years 1679 and 1700, and consists of eleven volumes,
folio. He was accused of Jansenism by the Jesuits, —
an accusation likely to be brought by Jesuits, against
the editors of Augustine, — and the attack gave rise to a
controversy, in which Blampin took no part. Having
finished a work which will immortalize his name, he
sought permission of his superiors to retire and give him-
self up to exercises of piety. But the permission was not
granted, and after filling various important offices, he was
nominated, in 1708, visitor of the province of Burgundy.
He died on the 13th of February, 1710.— Moreri.

Bland, John, was rector of Adisham, in Kent, on the
accession of queen Mary, having at one period of his life
been " a bringer up of youth," and having had for his
pupil Edwin Sandys, afterwards archbishop of York. He
was ejected from his living, in which he was superseded by
vol. II 2 t

494 BLESENSIS.

Thorneden, or Thornto suffragan of Dover, who, himself
celebrated for his tergiversation, sat as one of the judges
when Bland was tried for heresy, in 1555. He was
charged with denying, 1. The corporal presence; 2. That
the sacraments should be administered in an unknown
tongue ; 3. That the eucharist should be administered
only in one kind. These charges he nobly admitted; and
on the 12th July, 1555, was burned to death at Canter-
bury.— Fox. Strype.

Blayney, Benjamin, was educated at Worcester-college,
Oxford, where he took his masters degree in 1753, and
afterwards became fellow of Hertford-college, since dis-
solved. In 1787 he took his degree of doctor in divinity,
and became professor of Hebrew. He was also canon of
Christ church, and rector of Polshot, in Wiltshire, where
he died in 1801. Dr Blayney was an excellent Hebraist
and biblical critic. He published, 1. A Dissertation on
Daniel's Seventy Weeks, 4to. 2 Jeremiah and Lamenta-
tions, a new translation, 8vo. 3. The Sign given to Ahaz,
a sermon, 4to. 4. Christ the Glory of the Temple, a
sermon, 4to. 5. Zechariah, a new translation, 4to. He
edited the Oxford Bible in 1769, which, for the marginal
references, is the most correct in our language. His
manuscripts were deposited in the library at Lambeth, by
his friend bishop Berington, to whose disposal he had
left them.— Gent. Mag.

Blesensis, Peter, or Petre of Blois, was keeper of
the great seals to William II, king of Sicily, in the 12th
century, and afterwards was admitted to the confidence of
Henry II, king of England. In 1175 he was archdeacon
of Bath, and afterwards became archdeacon of London and
chancellor to the archbishop of Canterbury. He was dis-
tinguished for his plain speaking, of which we have an
instance in his remonstrance addressed to Richard, arch-
bishop of Canterbury :

BLESENSIS. 495

He acquaints him, " his government was deeply cen-
sured : that people taxed him with inactivity, and sleeping
over his charge : that all the misfortunes of the Church
were imputed to his want of zeal and resolution : that the
ark of God was taken by the Philistines ; the Church
harassed, and depressed by harpies and libertines ; the
sword of St Peter eaten up with rust ; the honour of God
blasphemed ; the Sacraments grown contemptible, and all
through the negligence of his administration. They say,
says he, it is your fault that Malchus attempts to seize our
Saviour ; that Pashur outrages the prophet Jeremy ; and
Belshazzar debauches in the vessels of the temple. When
I mention your humility and inoffensive behaviour, they
count this a cold commendation, and a lean character for
a prelate. They object, these virtues are but slender
qualifications for a person of your station : that bare ab-
stainiug from evil without doing good, falls short of the
duty of an archbishop ; and that a barren tree will be cut
down and cast into the fire. They complain, you found
the Church in an admirable condition : that now affairs
are much altered for the worse, discipline decayed, and
the honour of religion sunk, by your cowardice and inac-
tivity. These reproaches are a great mortification to me,
and yet I am in no condition to silence them.

" When I commend you for repairing the houses, im-
proving the farms, and managing the revenues of the
archbishopric, they will not allow it for any defence ; this
plea serves only to revive their satire upon you. And
what is a farther addition to my grief is, that the king,
who, to my knowledge, has a hearty regard for you, is:
sensible of your feeble management. That he is so, ap-
pears by the private reprimands he has given you. How
often has he lamented your tameness and neglect, and
put you in mind of the encouragement given to disordei
by the slackeoing of discipline ? Neither have you any
reason to complain of want of support and countenance ;
for I, who have sometimes the honour to attend the king.
heard him amongst other expressions of favour, speak this

496 BLONDEL.

remarkable sentence ; I would desire my lord archbishop
to take notice, says the king, that if any person of the high-
est quality, not excepting my own son, shall presume to
embarrass their primate of Canterbury, and hinder him in
the execution of his office, I will revenge the affront as
deep, as if it had been a treasonable attempt against my
own crown and dignity. I know, continues Blesensis,
that the king has been very desirous a great while that
you would awaken your courage, and exert your autho-
rity : that your hand, if I may say so, would take hold of
judgment, and reprove for the meek of the earth.

" He proceeds to excuse the freedom of his remonstrance;
and, at last, endeavours to excite the archbishop to his
duty from the topics of a future account and the terrors of
another world."

He died about the year 1200. His works were pub-
lished at Paris in 1667, and in one of his letters (the
140th) the word transubstantiation is used : the first time
of its occurrence, it is supposed, in any author, in its
present theological sense. His continuation of Ingulph
was first published at Oxford, in 1684. — Le Neve. Blount.
Collier.

Blondel, David, was born at Chalons, in Champagne,
in 1591, and being admitted into the protestant minis-
try in 1614, officiated for some time at Houdan, near
Paris. He wrote a defence of the reformed churches of
France, in answer to the bishop of Lucon, afterwards car-
dinal Pdehelieu, which gained him great reputation. The
national synod of Charenton chose him honorary professor
in 1645 ; and on the death of Vossius, he succeeded him
at Amsterdam as professor of history, where he died in
1655. His principal works are, Explications on the
Eucharist ; on the Primacy of the Church ; Treatise on
the Sybils ; and on Bishops and Presbyters. He left
several marginal notes in his copy of the annals of Baro-
nius, to which he at one time intended to write a reply,
in vindication of protestantism. This copy was presented

BLOUNT. 49*5

by the magistrates of Amsterdam to the public library in
that city, and the notes were published, with a little addi-
tion of his own, by a refugee minister of Bern. They
are said to be of little or no value. His refutation of the
idle tale about pope Joan gave great offence to those of
the .ultra-protestants whose hatred of Rome predominated
over their love of truth. — Moreri.

Blosius, or De Blois, Francis Lewis, was born in
1506, at the chateau of Donstienne, in the territory of
Liege. Being of a noble family he was educated with the
emperor Charles V, until the age of fourteen, when he as-
sumed the Benedictine habit in the monastery of Liesses.
in Hainault. He was soon made coadjutor to the abbot
and in 1530 became abbot himself. Here he employed
himself in reforming his monastery, for which he drew up
a body of statutes, approved by pope Paul III, in 1545.
He could not be induced to quit his monastery, although
Charles V earnestly pressed upon him the archbishopric
of Cambray. He died on the 7th of January, 1566.
although his death is placed by some in the year 1563.
As a devotional writer he has been much esteemed. His
works were printed in one volume, folio, at Cologne, in
1571. The most celebrated of them is, the Speculum
Religiosorum, or Dacryanus, the Weeper, so called from
the tears shed by the author over the relaxation of monas-
tic discipline. — Andre du Chene, Hist, de la Maison de
Chatillon. Anonym, assud. Bollandum.

Blount, John, called in Latin Blondus, or Blundus. a
divine of the 13th century, was educated first at Oxford
and afterwards at Paris, where he greatly distinguished
himself by his learning and talents. His high character
became more completely established on his return to
Oxford, where he read divinity lectures. He was pre-
bendary and chancellor in the church of York. His name
is chiefly known as connected with a shameful transac-
2t2

498 BLOUNT.

tion of the papal court towards our beloved church.
In the year 1232 Richard Wethershed, archbishop of
Canterbury, departed this life, and the monks of Can-
terbury chose as his successor Ralph Nevile, bishop of
Chichester.

This prelate was then chancellor of England, and
behaved himself in that office to great commendation,
being very remarkable for the equity and expedition of his
decrees. He was a person of that integrity and fortitude
that neither favour, money, nor greatness, could make any
impression upon him. The monks expecting an admira-
ble governor in a person thus qualified,- presented him to
the king. The king was well pleased with the election,
and put him in possession of the manors, and temporalities
of the archbishopric. Upon this, the monks going to
Rome to have their election confirmed, desired Richard to
furnish them with money for their journey. The bishop
looking upon such a contribution as a mark of simonaical
ambition, plainly told them, he would not be at a penny
charge upon that occasion The monks believing the refu-
sal to proceed more from honesty than penuriousness,
made a voyage to Rome, and desired the pope to confirm
the election. The pope having received a character of
Richard from Simon Langton, told the monks, that their
elect was a court divine ; a man of little learning, and
very warm, and sudden in his temper : and, which was
still more exceptionable, it was to be feared, that if he
was promoted to so great a post, he would make it his busi-
ness to disengage the kingdom of England from their late
homage to the see of Rome, and stop the customary acknow-
ledgment of that crown : and that the king and people of
England would readily concur with such a motion. It
seems the pope was afraid that bishop Nevile might be en-
couraged to such an attempt by the precedent of the late
archbishop Langton, who remonstrated against the king's
yearly payment of a thousand marks, and entered his pro-
test in writing against resigning the crown to the pope.

BLOUNT. 499

This character of Nevile lost him his promotion ; and the
monks were ordered to proceed to a new election, and
choose a person that might prove more serviceable to the
court of Rome. About this time the Italian priests had
engrossed a great many benefices in England, and impo-
verished the kingdom by exporting the treasure : and in
these promotions, it seems, they had managed themselves
with great avarice, and indiscretion ; not suffering the
bishops to prefer the natives, till foreigners, and creatures
of the court of Rome were first served. The nobility and
commons resented this usage, and resolved upon a rash
expedient : being formed into a sort of association, they
wrote to the respective bishops and chapters, letting them
know they would endure the arbitrary oppressions of the
Romans no longer, warning them not to encourage their
encroachments, or be any ways assisting to them, under
the penalty of having their houses burnt, and their farms
harassed and destroyed. They likewise wrote to the
monks, and others who hired Church farms of the Italian
clergy, not to pay them any rent or arrears, under the
menaces above-mentioned. These threatening letters were
sealed with a new seal, engraved with two swords, with
this inscription, ecce Gladii duo hie, and dispersed by
gentlemen of the association. Neither were these menaces
without effect : for soon after one Cincius a Roman clerk,
and prebendary of St Paul's was taken upon the road near
St Albans by men in vizards, carried off, and kept five
weeks in durance, and forced at last, to a high composition
for his liberty. The barns of the Italian clergy were broke
open, their com sold, and sometimes given to the poor :
and when those that committed these outrages were
questioned, they produced counterfeit letters patents for
their warrant; and it was thought these liberties were
countenanced under-hand by the magistracy. As for the
Roman clergy, they were glad to retire into monasteries,
and secure their persons : and yet, the men that appeared
in these riots, were seldom above five and twenty.

When the pope was informed how his countrymen

500 BLOUNT.

were outraged, he wrote an expostulatory letter to the
king, in which he puts him in mind " how much himself
and his father had been obliged to the see of Rome. How
they had been screened from the insults of their rebellious
subjects, cherished with particular marks of favour, and
taken* into the protection of the Church : from hence he
proceeds to mention the ill treatment of his nuncios and
ministers : that one of those who came with an authority
from the holy see, was cut in pieces, and another left half
dead : that the letters and credentials of their character
were torn, and the bull trodden under foot : that the Italian
clergy in England were seized, plundered, and harassed
to that degree, as if one of the ten persecutions was acting
over again, and the cruelties of Nero revived. He charges
some of the prelates with connivance at these disorders ;
and after a great many strong expressions upon the ingrati-
tude of the kingdom, he moves earnestly, that those who
have suffered, may have speedy reparation, and the male-
factors be brought to condign punishment."

The election of Nevile being voided, the monks of Can-
terbury chose their subprior John for their metropolitan,
which election was approved by the king. The elect took
a journey to Rome, underwent the test at the pope's court,
and had nothing objected either as to life or learning.

However, he was refused upon the score of his age :
the pope told him that since he was so far past the
strength of his years, it was more advisable for him to
decline so public a station. And thus being an easy, good
natured old man, he was prevailed with to resign the
election.

The monks of Canterbury now elected John Blount, but
in their nomination of him. they were not more fortunate,
for Peter des Roches, bishop of Winchester, having given
him a thousand marks, and lent him another thousand,
corrupt objects were attributed to these transactions, and
he was accused of simony. He was also accused of hold-
ing two benefices with cure of souls, without a dispensa-
tion, although the benefices, as he pleaded, were so held

BLOUNT. 501

before the decree of that general council which condemned
pluralities had been promulgated. Whatever was the real
reason of Blount's rejection, his contemporaries treated
that assigned for it as a mere pretence. " Perhaps," says
Bale, " Blount was more learned than the court of Rome
desired an archbishop of Canterbury to be," for popes
before the reformation were as jealous of archbishops as
the advisers of monarchs have been since. Matthew Paris
assigns as a reason for his rejection, a letter, soliciting
interference in his behalf from the bishop of Winchester
to the emperor, who was not in favour with Gregory IX.
Archbishop Parker attributes his rejection to a fear that
an able man, like Blount, might imitate Langton, in
taking a more patriotic and independent position than
was consistent with papal interests, and the hopes that
king John's disreputable submission had encouraged.
After Blount's disappointment he returned to Oxford, and
passed the remaining sixteen years of his life in the com-
position of several learned works, and amongst them,
various commentaries on Holy Scripture. He died in
1248. — Matt. Paris. Matt. Westm. Be Antiq. Brit. Eccl.
Collier. Bale.

Blount, or Blond y, PiIchakd, was consecrated bishop
of Exeter in 1245. Godwin says of him : " Richard
Blondy was consecrated 1*245. This Pdchard was a man
of mild spirit, but very stout against such as in his time
did offer any injury to the Church. In his old years being
but a weak man, he was much carried and ruled by
such as were about him. They taking the opportunity of
time, used all the means they might to enrich themselves.
His chiefest officers were one Lodesewell, his chancel-
lor, Sutton, his registrar, Fitzherbert, his official, and
Emestowe, the keeper of his seal : these, with other of
the household, compacted amongst themselves, whilst the
bishop was yet living (who then lay sick and very weak in
his bed) to make unto themselves conveyances of such
livelihoods as then lay in the bishop's disposition ; and

502 BOCHART.

accordingly made out advowsons and other such grants, as
to them seemed best : all which were forthwith sealed and
delivered according to the orders among them concluded.
These their subtle dealings were not so closely conveyed,
but that the next bishop following, boulted and found the
same out ; and did not only reverse all their doings, but
also excommunicate them ; neither were they absolved
until they had done penance for the same at St Peter's
church, openly, upon Palm Sunday, being the 19th day
of March, 1267. This bishop in the 12th year of his
bishopric died, to wit, anno. 1257, and was buried in his
own church."

Bochakt, Samuel, was born at Rouen in 1599. His
mother was a sister of Peter du Moulin. At the age of
fourteen he wrote some Greek verses in praise of Thomas
Dempster, a Scotchman, under whom he studied at Paris.
Bochart, after a liberal education at Sedan and Saumur,
came to England, aud was a student for some time at
Oxford, where he applied to oriental learning. He next
went to Leyden, and studied Arabic under Erpenius. On
his return to France he was chosen protestant minister at
Caen, where he held a public dispute with father Veron, a
Jesuit, entrusted by the court with a special mission to
dispute in favour of Romanism, the particulars of which
were published in two vols, 8vo. While at Caen he be-
came tutor to Wentworth Dillon, earl of Roscommon. In
1646 he published his celebrated work, Phaleg et Canaan;
seu Geographia Sacra, which Michaelis published, with a
supplement, in 1780, correcting the mistakes and supply-
ing the omissions. In 1652 he went to Sweden, at the
invitation of the queen, who gave him many marks of her
favour. In 1653 he was admitted a member of the
academy of Caen, and died suddenly while speaking in
that assembly, in 1667. His works are — 1. Phaleg et
Canaan; seu Geographia Sacra, 1646, mentioned above.
2. Hierozoicon, or an account of the animals mentioned
in Scripture, printed at London in 1675, folio, and re-

BOETHIUS. 503

printed at Leipsic by Rosenmuller, in 3 vols, 4to, 1793,
Bochart also wrote several tracts of great value, as one
upon the terrestrial paradise, one on the plants and pre-
cious stones mentioned in the Bible, and others, all of
which were published in the edition of his works printed
in Holland, in 3 vols, folio, 1712.

Boehm. See Behmen.

Boeenee, Christian Fredeeick, was born at Dresden
in 1685, and became professor of theology at Leipsic,
where he died November 19, 1753. His principal works
are — 1. De exulibus Graecis iisdemque literarum in Italia
instauratoribus, 8vo. 2. De ortu atque progressu Philoso-
phise moralis. 3. De Socrate, singulari boni ethici exemplo.
4. De Lutheri actis, anno 1520, &c. 4to. 5. Institutiones
theologiae symbolicse, 4to. 6. Dissertationes Sacrae. He
also published an edition of Luther's works, in 22 vols,
folio, and an edition of Le Long's " Bibliotheca Sacra,"
2 vols, 8vo. He once possessed a MS of part of the New
Testament which is known by the name of Codex Boeme-
rianus. It contains all the epistles of St Paul except that
to the Hebrews. It is noted G in the second part of
Wetstein's New Testament, and was collated by Kuster.
The antiquity of this MS. is proved by the form of the
characters, and the absence of accents and of marks of
aspiration. It seems to have been written during the
period of transition from uncial to small letters ; and from
resemblances to the Anglo-Saxon alphabet, it is thought
to have been written in the West between the eighth and
twelfth centuries. It is now in the royal library at Dres-
den, but a copy of it is in that of Trinity college, Cam-
bridge, among the books and MSS. left by Dr Bentley. —
Michaelis. Biog. Univ.

Boethius, Boece or Boeis, Hectoe, whose biography
belongs to that of historians rather than of divines, was
born at Dundee about the year 1470. He studied first at

504 BOETHIUS.

Dundee and Aberdeen, he was then sent to the college of
Montague, in the university of Paris, where he applied
himself to philosophy, and became a professor. Here he
had an opportunity of contracting an acquaintance with
several persons of learning, who were students at this
university, particularly Erasmus, who kept up a corres-
pondence with him afterwards. Dr William Elphinston,
bishop of Aberdeen, having founded King's college in that
city, about the year 1500, sent for Boethius from Paris,
and appointed him principal. He took for his colleague
Mr William Hay, his fellow student in Scotland, and by
their joint labour the kingdom was furnished with several
eminent scholars. Upon the death of his patron, bishop
Elphinston, in 1514, he undertook to write his life, and
prefixed the lives of his predecessors in that see. It is
written in Latin, and entitled, Vitas Episcoporum Murth-
lacensium et Aberdonensium. Paris, 1522, 4to. The see
was originally placed at Mortlick, or Murthlack, in the
shire of Banff, thirty- six miles from Aberdeen. It was
removed to Old Aberdeen about the year 1106. He
begins at Beanus, the first bishop of that see, and ends at
Gawin Dunbar, who was bishop when the book was pub-
lished. A third part of the work is spent in the life of
bishop Elphinston, for whose sake the work was under-
taken. He next applied himself to write in the same
language the History of Scotland, the first edition of
which was printed at Paris by Badius Ascensius in the
year 1526, which consisted of 17 books, and ended with
the death of king James I ; but the next edition in 1574,
was much enlarged, having the addition of the 18th book
and part of the 19th: the work was afterwards brought
down to the reign of James III, by Johannes Ferrerius, a
Piedmontese. Dr Makenzie observes, that of all the Scots
historians, next to Buchanan, Boethius has been the most
censured and commended by the learned men who have
mentioned him. He certainly seems to have drawn
occasionally on his imagination for facts. He died about,
the year 1550. — Biog. Brit. Makenzie. Keith.

BOLD. 505

Boileau, James, brother of the French poet, was born
in 1635. He became a doctor of the Sorbonne, dean of
Sens, and canon of the holy chapel at Paris : he was also
dean of the faculty of theology. He died in 1710. He was
no less inimical to the Jesuits than his brother, and said
of them, that "they lengthened the creed and abridged
the commandments." He published De Antiquo jure
Presbyterorum in Regimine Ecclesiastico in 1676, in
which, on primitive principles, he maintained the right of
presbyters to have a share in the government of the
Church. His Historia Confessionis Auricularis was pub-
lished in 1683, against Daille. His Historia Flagellan-
tium in 1700, was written to prove that voluntary flagel-
lations were contrary to the practice of the primitive
church. This work was translated into French without
the author's consent, and gave great offence, by some pas-
sages which seemed to be indecent. These he retracted
or suppressed. His other works were, Historica Disqui-
sitio de Pie Vestiaria Sacri, Vitam communem More Civili
traducentes, 1704. His Disquisitio Theologica de San-
guine Corporis Christi post Piesurrectionem, ad Epistolam
146, S. Augustini, 1681, was written against Allix, pro-
testant minister of Charenton, against whom he also pub-
lished a translation of Bertram, or Ratramn, with notes.
— Moreri.

Bold, John, was born at Leicester, in 1679, of an an-
cient family, and educated academically at St John's
college, Cambridge, where he was matriculated at fifteen,
and took his degree of B.A. with great credit in 1698.
When admitted into holy orders, the bishop, pleased with
his proficiency, purposed to make him his chaplain. But
the prelate's death rendered this kind intention unavail-
ing, and Bold remained through life upon the curacy of
Stony Stanton, Leicestershire, to wrhich he was ordained.
His income from his curacy amounted to £30 a year, with
a few shillings additional in fees, and he had no private
vol. ii. 2 u

506 BOLD.

fortune. Of this income he laid by at interest £5 yearly,
to answer purposes either of exigency while living, or of
posthumous beneficence ; £5 he bestowed in alms or in
printing religious tracts, composed by himself, and distri-
buted among his people ; £5 he expended in apparel ;
upon the remaining £15 he subsisted. Upon his first
entrance on the cure he paid £8 a year for his accom-
modation at a farmer's. He sat by the farmer's fireside,
at a little table, upon which was served his plain and
temperate meal, sent to him from the farmer's table ; on
which, too, he composed his discourses. On the fast-days
of the Church, with the Wednesdays and Fridays in Lent,
he tasted no refreshment after service till evening, and
then a couple of eggs, with a little milk-porridge, was his
whole repast. On ordinary days, his breakfast consisted
of water-gruel ; and after his homely dinner, he took a
measured half-pint, and no more, of ale, of his own brew-
ing. No luxury of tea intervened betwixt his dinner and
a little boiled milk for his supper. He declined dining
visits abroad, and was very backward in receiving any
present for supply of his table ; if any was sent, it was
given by him to the common table of the family. The
poor were much attached to him, and a poor man would
sometimes ask his company to a christening dinner ; but
lie always made a present to the mother exceeding the
value of his entertainment. He never entered into con-
vivialities, not even upon the ground of conciliatory con-
duct, which loses more in respect than it gains in
usefulness. There is in a civil reserve what the artists
call a relief, which gives distinction to what should be
regarded as holy, above what is common. His ordinary
dress was calculated to answer the same end ; it was a
folding gown of woollen stuff, girt about the waist. He
always wore a band, and was ever decent in his appear-
ance. The price of boarding increased upon him from
time to time : at first it was £8 a year ; next- £12 ; and
finally, before his death, it was raised to £16. As he

BOLD. 507

declined in years, and required more attention, he pro-
mised that in whatever family he should die, he would
bequeath his chamber furniture and £100 as a requital
for their services ; which he accordingly fulfilled In his
walks he would occasionally call upon his few surrounding
clerical neighbours ; and at midsummer he usually bor-
rowed a horse, to make a little round of short visits to the
neighbouring clergy. With his private life, his pastoral
labours and ministrations were correspondent. He held,
with many of our divines, the moral obligation of the
Lord's day. Its preceding eve he observed as preparatory
to the celebration of the day itself ; for it is impossible to
go with heads and hearts full of this world immediately
in pious composure to the solemnities of religious worship.
The afternoon, therefore, or the evening of the Saturday,
this good curate employed in the instruction of the
younger parishioners in the elementary principles of the
Christian faith ; for the Sunday duties of prayer, and a
sermon twice a day, with baptizing, and visiting the sick,
was sufficient employment for the day.

Of his works, Mr Nichols says, that it was agreed that
he wrote better than most contemporary divines, and that
his style bore a great resemblance to that of Addison. Of
these four may be mentioned: 1. A Tract on Educa-
tion, written while he taught a school at Hinkley, which
contains quotations from the classics and the fathers
2. Religion is a most delightful employment. 3. The sin
and danger of neglecting public worship. 4. An address
to his parishioners upon the sacrament of the Lord's
Supper; the duty and advantage of frequent communion:
with suitable prayers annexed. The three first were
placed on the list of an ancient society, conducted by
professing members of the church of England, and
formerly distinguished for its orthodoxy, the Society for
Promoting Christian Kuowledge. The last went through
three editions. The tract, " Religion the most delightful
employment," is concluded thus : " Forgive, 0 heavenly
Father, the unworthy author of this treatise, whatever

508 BOLD.

hath been offensive to Thy divine Majesty in any part of
his life past. Pardon and deliver him from all his sins ;
confirm and strengthen him in all goodness, and bring
him to everlasting life." Some other prayers are added,
chiefly from Mr Nelson.

His tract upon the duty of worthy communicating,
" designed for the meanest capacity," (first published,
March 7, 1726,) is accompanied with suitable prayers and
heads of examination. The affectionate manner in which
he speaks to his flock, is worth noticing. " My dearly
beloved brethren, it is my earnest desire, and constant
prayer to God, that I may faithfully discharge my own
duty, and become the happy instrument of advancing the
glory of God, and setting forward your eternal salvation ;
but I am sensible that all the pains I can take amongst
you will be to no purpose, and all my labours ineffectual
towards the bringing you safe to heaven, unless I can
bring you to a true sense and regular practice of that great
and important duty of receiving the holy sacrament of the
Lord's Supper."

It being the great design of Mr Bold to form the
temper of his flock to habitual piety, under the promised
assurance, " Where two or three are gathered together in
My name, there am I in the midst of them," (Matt, xviii.
20,) he effectually prevailed with many of his parishioners
to attend divine worship every day in Lent, and twice a
week at other seasons.

As Mr Bold was, from princijde, a firm friend to our
church liturgy and doctrines, so did he zealously support
and recommend them, both by his doctrine and by his
pious labours, being studious to bring all his parishioners
to the unity of the Church, following in this the example
of the apostle to the Corinthians; "I beseech you, bre-
thren, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that ye all
speak the same thing, and that there be no divisions
among you ; but that ye be perfectly joined together in
the same judgment. Is Christ divided?" In the most
solemn hour of our Lord's life, He prays to the Father for

BOLD. 509

this unity amongst all who should believe on His name :
" that they may be one, as Thou, Father, art in Me, and
I in Thee, that they also may be one in Us, that the world
may believe that Thou hast sent Me." The unity of the
faith, therefore, and the unity of the Church, we leam
from hence, is a means of maintaining the Christian faith
in the world. Causeless schism, therefore, is a sin which
violates peace and charity, and is the parent of persecu-
tion, and injurious to the faith, and has frequently been
objected by unbelievers. "How," say they, "can you urge
us to believe, when you are not agreed among yourselves
uhat to believe ?"'

Mr Bold had the satisfaction before his death of seeing
so much religious union among his parishioners, that
there was not a single dissenter among them : their
number was about 350, and they were generally attendant
upon the public service ; and the younger part upon his
catechetical instruction on the Saturday afternoon. Al-
though he had an offer of preferment, he chose volun-
tarily to devote his whole life to the spiritual welfare ot
this one poor parish, under the conviction that, by so
doing, he should "make his example and doctrine the
more striking and effective," and so best fulfil the solemn
obligations that he had undertaken ; and by his great
economy, he was enabled to requite the assistance of a
neighbouring clergyman, when disabled by infirmity dur-
ing the last four years of his life. Thus aiding his
parishioners by his self-denial and economy, when his
physical powers failed. He gave more than half his in-
come, £16 a year, to his fellow-labourer, and relaxed his
own labours no more than his weakness required. His
co-curate was a man like minded with himself. This
saint of the church of England died 29th October, 1751,
enabled by his savings of £5 a year to make many be-
quests, and among them, one for a sermon once a year in
Lent, " on the duty of the people to attend to the instruc-
tions of the minister whom the bishop of the diocese
should set over them."
2u2

510 BOLLANDUS.

The two distinguishing marks of John Bold's character
were holiness and benignity : the whole concern of his
life was to illustrate and enforce each, and to transfuse
similar principles into his flock. He will always be held
in honour by the despised but most honourable class of
men, the parish priests of the church of England. — Burns's
Lives of Englishmen. NichoVs Hist, of Leicestershire.

Bollandus, John, was born in the Netherlands, on the
13th of August, 1596, and at the age of sixteen became a
Jesuit. He was appointed by his superiors in 1629 to
continue a work projected by Hesibert Kosweide, entitled
Acta Sanctorum quotquot toto orbe coluntur. To carry on
this history of the canonized dead he removed to Antwerp,
and established a general correspondence throughout
Europe, instructing his friends to search every library,
register, or repository of any kind where information
might be found. He had for his assistant Godfrey
Henschen. The first of their labours appeared in 1643,
when two volumes folio appeared containing the lives of
the saints whose days occur in January. In 1658 the
saints of February appeared in three volumes. He now
had in Daniel Paperbroch another assistant, and was pro-
ceeding with the saints of March, but this part of his
work he left incomplete, at his death, on the 12th of
September, 1665. Henschen and Paperbroch continued
their labours, and March was published in three volumes
in 1668. April appeared in three volumes in 1675.
Henschen died in 1680, when the first sixteen days of
May were published. A series of writers continued the
work under the name of Bollandists ; but although the
collection fills fifty-three volumes folio, it only reaches to
the 14th of October.

" This vast collection," says Dupin, "may well be com-
pared to a net thrown into the sea, which takes all sorts
of fishes, since it comprehends all kinds of acts, and all
the lives of saints, who have been good, indifferent, wick-
ed, true, doubtful and supposititious. It is true, that

BOLSEC. 511

those who publish them give their opinion upon each of
these lives, and reject many of the pretended saints, and
discover several gross fables that are inserted in the
account of their lives; but still approve them in the main,
either expressly, or by their silence. F. Bo^andus was
more inclinable than his colleagues, to approve the popu-
lar traditions ; Henschen and Paperbroch appear to have
been less credulous, and have taken the liberty, or rather
a commission from the former, to remark and correct the
faults into which he was fallen. What precaution soever
they have taken, they have not hindered those who were
attached to the popular errors, or who were engaged in
point of interest to defend old fables, from making loud
complaints against the observations of these authors.
This has also drawn upon them a quarrel with the Car-
melites, because they have not given into their visions,
with regard to the antiquity of their order, of which they
make the prophet Elias, patriarch. They have published
against them many libels, under borrowed names, and
with extraordinary and fantastical titles." — Moreri. Dupin.

Bolsec, Jeeome ITermas, was a monk of the order of
Carmelites in Paris, and became a preacher in St Bar-
tholomew's church, where he gave some offence, and for-
saking his order, fled to Ferrara. He afterwards went
to Geneva where he practised as a physician, and failing
in this, gave his attention to theology. He and Calvin
soon quarrelled. In 1551 he publicly maintained that
calvinistic predestination makes God the author of sin, —
that election is not the source but the consequence of our
faith, — and that the doctrine held by Calvin on these
points was not the doctrine of St Augustine and the
fathers, but a late invention. Calvin was among the
auditors of Bolsec on this occasion, concealed in the
crowd : he immediately came forward and made a long
speech in favour of his pet doctrines, and, according to the
statement of Beza, refuted Bolsec " with so many solid
arguments that every body was miserably ashamed of him.

512 BONA.

except the brazen-faced monk himself." The calvmists,
we see, could give as well as take hard language. But in
those days it was more dangerous to attack Calvin than the
pope ; and perhaps a proof that Calvin's vindication was
not quite so triumphant as his panegyrist would repre-
sent, is to be found in the fact, that " for turbulently
warning the people against their pastors," Bolsec was cast
into prison. He was afterwards banished from the terri-
tory of Geneva on the pain of being whipped if he should
return thither. The toleration of ultra-protestants was
not very conspicuous in those days : but Bolsec was a bad
man; and having first been admitted as a preacher
among the protestants at Orleans, where iu 156*2 he re-
canted his objections to Calvinism, he relapsed to popery,
and in 1577 published a life of Calvin. In 1582 he wrote
a biography of Beza, followed by lives of Zuingle, Luther,
and CEcolampadius. These biographies are said to be re-
plete with falsehoods as well as invectives, and supplied
the less scrupulous polemics of popery with means of
attacking these reformers. — Mosheim. Moreri. Bezas Life
of Calvin.

Bona, John, was descended from an ancient and noble
family, and born at Mondovi, a town in Piedmont, upon
the 10th of October, 1609. He was devoted to solitude,
and had a contempt of the world from his infancy. At
fifteen years of age he retired to a monastery near Pignerol,
and becoming a Cistercian monk in the year 1651, he
was made general of his order. Cardinal Fabio Chigi,
who was Bona's great friend, and in the year 1655 chosen
pope under the name of Alexander VII, wished him to
retain this office, and used some means to prevail with
him : but Bona pressed so earnestly to be discharged, that
the pope at length suffered him to resign it. He did it
however upon this condition, that Bona should not depart
from Rome ; and in order to reconcile him to it, gave him
several employments. Clement IX continued him in
these places, conferred upon him new ones, and made

BOX A VENTURE. 513

him cardinal in November, 1669. This pontiff dying soon
after, man}7 people wished that Bona might succeed him in
the holy see. He died at Rome on the 27th of Oct. 1074.
His work De Divina Psalmodia, ejusque Causis, Mys-
teriis et Disciplina ; deque varus Ritibus omnium Eccle-
siarum in psallendis divinis Officiis, was published in
1663. This work established his character as a man of
learning and research, and was a good introduction to
that on which his fame mainly rests, and upon which he
expended the labour of seven years, his Rernm Liturgi-
carum Lib. ii. This was published at Rome in 1671, and
reprinted the next year at Paris. Bona's works were
published by Sala at Turin in 1717, in four volumes,
folio ; and this is considered the best edition of his works.
— Moreri. Fabroni vita Italorum.

Bonaventure, whose original name was Fidenza, was
christened by the name of John. He was born at
Bagnarea, in Tuscany, in the year 1221. In the fourth
year of his age he was so ill that his life was despaired of,
and his mother in her distress implored Francis of Assisi
to pray for him. He did so ; and his prayers were heard.
When Francis was approaching the end of life he advert-
ed to this circumstance, and seeing indications of talent
and goodness in the boy, he exclaimed with reference to
his restoration to health, 0 buonaventura ! what good
luck! The name Bonaventure henceforth adhered to
John Fidenza, who became a friar of the Franciscan order
in 1243. He then went to Paris to complete his studies,
and studied under our countryman Alexander Hales,
styled among the schoolmen the Irrefragable Doctor.
Bonaventure became equally distinguished for his learn-
ing and his devotional asceticism : pointing once to a
crucifix he said, " This is the source of my knowledge — I
study only Jesus Christ and Him crucified." Well would
it have been for Bonaventure's own soul and for Christen-
dom, had this poor sinful man always adhered to this
doctrine, but great as his virtues were, his fame is ob-

514 BONA VENTURE.

scured by the fact, that few individuals in that dark age
did more to betray Christians into the sin of Mariolatry,
than Bonaventure. Papists would appeal to his virtues
as a justification of this their idolatry : we are not to
judge another; but if such an appeal is to be made,
the fact of his idolatry must make us think that the
history of his virtues is apocryphal. We know that in
popish writings — (see Alban Butler) — the record of the
virtues of Bonaventure is mixed up with legendary
falsehoods. But there is no occasion to do this : he was
misled by the tradition of his age, and even as we can
duly appreciate the virtues of an ultra-protestant in the
present age, notwithstanding the manifold sins and often
unchristian spirit of his party, so we can reverence the
virtues of a schoolman of the 13th century, although we
are compelled as catholics and Christians to condemn his
opinions. Bonaventure could have been no saint, but he
was a sinner doing his best according to the light afforded
him. And this he has in his favour, that by two extremes
he is praised. Bellarmine has pronounced Bonaventure
to be a man dear to God and men ; while Luther calls
him vir prastantissimus, a most excellent man.

After his ordination Bonaventure taught in his convent
privately until he succeeded his master, John Bochelle,
in the public chair of the university. He bestowed on the
establishment that book of the school divines, the Sentences
of Peter Lombard, and won for himself the title of the
Seraphic Doctor, styled Eustachius, or Eutychius, by the
Greeks. Together with his friend, Thomas Aquinas, he
took his doctor's degree in 1255 : and in the year following
was, to his astonishment, chosen general of the Franciscans,
on the forced resignation of John of Parma. By the ex-
treme violence of John of Parma, supported by a powerful
party, the Franciscan order had been divided by intestine
dissensions, but peace was restored by the wisdom and
sound discretion of the young general, who, at the time of
his appointment, was only thirty-five years old. He had
set out for Rome immediately on his appointment, and

BOXAVEXTURE. 515

visited several of his convents on his way back to Paris,
shewing every where that he was only become superior, to
be the most humble, the most charitable, and the most
compassionate of all his brethren, and the servant of the
whole order.

It is said that Clement IV, pope of Rome, tried to force
Bonaventure on the church of England, and by force or
fraud obtained for him the archbishopric of York. But,
as Godwin de prassulibus shews, it is very improbable that
such an offer was made ; and however subservient the
church of England might at that time have been to the
papal court, it was not probable that the English govern-
ment would have tolerated the appointment of an Italian
friar, to a dignity of such importance. He was nominated
to an office, for which he was much better qualified, by
Gregory X, by whom he was created cardinal, and
appointed to the bishopric of Albano. Gregory X was
indeed indebted for his election to the tiara to Bonaven-
ture, who, it is supposed, might have secured the popedom
for himself, at the death of Clement IV, if he had been
so disposed.

Bonaventure was desired by the pope to attend the
council of Lyons : — one of those councils in which the popes
of Rome have attempted to effect a re-union with the
Greek church, not by a reformation of abuses and doctrine,
but by artifice and manoeuvre. Bonaventure was not, of
course, cognizant of any thing but the fact, that between
certain prelates of the two churches, there was to be a
conference, and that a council was instituted, by what he
considered the competent authority. He charmed the
Greek deputies by his eloquence, and found no difBculty
in persuading them by his arguments, since they who
attended the council had come predetermined to be con-
vinced. During the session of the council, Bonaventure
died. He expired with great calmness on the loth of
June, in the year of our Lord 1274.

His works abound with much that is calculated to
elevate the feelings and to enlighten the mind, though

516 BONIFACE.

sadly tinctured with his superstitious veneration for the
Virgin. When he was made general of the Franciscans,
he placed his order under her patronage, and regulated
many exercises of devotion to her; but Butler informs us,
on apparently good authority, that the psalter of the
Virgin is ascribed to him falsely, and is unworthy to bear
his name. The Vatican edition of his works was begun by
an order of Sixtus V, and completed in 1588. It consists
of eight volumes, folio. The two first contain his com-
mentaries on the Holy Scriptures : the third his sermons
and panegyrics ; the fourth and fifth his comments on the
master of the sentences ; the sixth, seventh, and eighth,
his lesser treatises, of which some are doctrinal, others
regard the duties of a religious state, others general sub-
jects of piety. Most of these have been published in
separate editions. His works have been reprinted at
Mentz and Lyons, and in fourteen vols, 4to, at Venice,
in 1751. — Dupin. Cave. Mosheim. Butler. Godwin.

Boniface. This ornament of the church of England,
whose original name was Winfrid, was born at Crediton,
near Barton, in Devonshire, about the year 680. He re-
ceived his early education in the monastery at Exeter,
from whence he was removed to a monastery in the dio-
cese of Winchester, where better opportunities were pro-
vided for the cultivation of his mind. By Winbert, the
abbot of that monastery, he was afterwards employed in
teaching others, and was persuaded when he was about
thirty years old to receive the order of priesthood. His
zeal as a clergyman for the salvation of souls soon began
to display itself ; and his reputation stood so high, that
when the bishops of the kingdom of the West Saxons
were obliged to hold a synod before the arrival of their
metropolitan, they fixed upon Winfrid to act as their
deputy, and to explain the affair to Berthwald, archbishop
of Canterbury. But in the midst of the esteem and
success with which he laboured at home, he conceived a
strong desire to be a partaker of the missionary labours of

BONIFACE. 517

the aged Wilbrord, whom he joined at Utrecht, in the
year 716. Here he found the difficulties in his way so
great, that he returned for a short time to England, where
he paid the last tribute of respect to the memory of his
master and patron, Winbert. He was offered the abbacy
vacant by Wmbert's death, but he seems never to have
renounced his calling of missionary to the unconverted
Germans, and probably had only returned to England to
devise a plan for carrying his intentioDS more fully into
effect. The attention of men requiring assistance was
at that time naturally directed to Rome, the present
monstrous pretensions of the bishop of that see not being
then established, though many good and earnest men,
such as Boniface, grateful for assistance kindly offered,
were at this time unconsciously building up the papal
system. From Daniel, bishop of Winchester, he obtained
recommendatory letters in 718, and he arrived in Rome
in 719, where he was kindly received. He then went for
a season into Lombardy, but repairing again to Rome, in
723 he was consecrated by pope Gregory II as missionary
bishop to the Germans eastward of the Rhine. It seems
probable that the pope then gave him the Italian name of
Boniface, as if to remind him of his obligations to the
Roman see, and to bind him to her service. It seems
indeed to have been the custom of that church to give new
names at consecration ; at least, the Italian missionaries
in England were accustomed to give a new name to the
Saxons they ordained as bishops. By some persons it is
said that he had assumed the name of Boniface before, in
conjunction with that of Winfrid, and that Gregory II
confirmed it at his consecration. A more devoted servant
the Roman bishop never had : an oath was administered
to him at consecration, by which he bound himself to pre-
serve the unity of the Church, and he was taught that
unity of the Church was identical with subserviency to
the see of Rome. He ever shewed himself too ready
to raise its pretensions by the depression of the episcopal

VOL. II. 2 x

518 BONIFACE.

order. But this was rather the fault of the age than
of the man : the spirit of the age was romanizing, and
not being a very learned person, by the spirit of the age
he was naturally much influenced. He took for granted
the validity of pretensions now known to be unfounded,
and the support he so readily received in all quarters may
be attributed to the fact, that in acting as he did he went
with the stream.

No sooner had he entered as a missionary bishop on his
field of labour than he was joined by missionaries from
England, and numbers of people from the provinces of
the Upper Rhine were converted and baptized.

In 738 the see of Mentz was, with the consent of the
Frankish government, made metropolitan, and Boniface
became the archbishop. While archbishop of Mentz his
opinion was asked whether it were lawful to make use of
wooden chalices in the celebration of the Eucharist : he
calmly replied, " that formerly the Church was happy in
Golden Priests, who offered the sacrifice of the altar in
wooden chalices ; but in his time things were unhappily
much altered, and wooden priests made use of golden
chalices."

While Boniface was fully employed in the business of
his ministry, Pepin was declared king of France. It was
that prince's ambition to be crowned by the most holy
prelate he could find, and Boniface was pitched on to
perform that ceremony, which he did at Soissons in 752.
The next year his great age, and many infirmities lay so
heavy on him that, with consent of the new king, the
bishops, abbots, clergy, and gentry of his diocese, he con-
secrated Lullus, his countryman, and faithful disciple,
and placed him in the see of Mentz. When he had thus
eased himself of the charge, he recommended the church
of Mentz to the care of the new bishop in very strong
terms, desiring that he would finish the church at Fuld
and see him buried in it, for his end was near. Having
left these orders, Boniface took boat on the Rhine, and

BONIFACE. 519

went to Friseland, where he converted and baptized seve-
ral thousands of the barbarous natives, demolished the
temples, and raised churches on their ruins. Having ad-
mitted so large a number to the sacred font, he appointed
a day for confirming the new Christians, and proposed
performing that ceremony in the open field in considera-
tion of their vast number. While he lay in a tent near
the river Bourde, where he designed to administer that
sacrament, the pagans got intelligence of it, and upon the
day appointed for the solemnity poured down on him and
the companions of his mission in a manner that sufficiently
spoke their design of massacring them. Boniface's ser-
vants were for repelling the barbarians by force of arms :
but the saint opposed the motion, told them and his clergy,
that the moment he had long wished for was now come,
and exhorted his assistants in the ministry to prepare
themselves for martyrdom. While he was thus employed
the pagans rushed in upon him, and killed him and fifty-
two of his companions and attendants. Their martyrdom
took place on the 5th of June, 755.

His epistles were published by Ferarius at Mentz, in
1605, and were reprinted in 1629. They do not leave a
favourable impression as to the piety of the medi-eval
church. His third letter is superscribed to bishop Daniel.
In it he complains of the behaviour of certain clergymen,
who taught errors, and permitted persons guilty of murder
and adultery to be admitted into the priesthood. And
that which troubled him most, was this ; that he could
not wholly separate from them, because they were in great
reputation in Pepin's court, of whom he stood in need :
but he says, that he did avoid ail communion with them
in the holy mysteries. He observes, that the opposition
which he met with from heathens and infidels was the
more tolerable, because it was without ; but when a priest,
deacon, or clergyman, departs from the faith, this causes a
disorder in the inward parts of the Church. He asks
advice of tins bishop, how he should carry himself; he
says, that on the one hand he is obliged to hold a fair

520 BONIFACE.

correspondence with the French king's court, because he
cannot, without his authority and command, defend the
German churches, and subdue the idolatry of those pro-
vinces : that going to desire orders for that end, he can-
not but communicate with those disorderly clergymen;
yet he is afraid that he offends God by it, having promised
by an oath to pope Gregory to avoid those persons : but
on the other side, he is afraid of bringing a greater damage
upon the Church if he should forbear going to the French
king's court. He adds, that he seems to satisfy his oath
by separating from those irregular clergymen in their
ministry, and not agreeing with them in their errors, or
sinful conversation. We have Daniel's answer to this let-
ter, wherein he approves of Boniface's carriage.

Collier, in his history of the 8th century, gives a length-
ened extract from his 105th letter, addressed to Cuthbert,
archbishop of Canterbury. It was written at the close of
the council of Augsburg at which Boniface presided, and
it was, with his usual zeal for the papacy, designed to
bring our Church under the dominion of the see of Rome.
Imparting to the archbishop the canons of that council, he
tells him, that they made a confession of the faith of the
Church, owned an union, and subjection to the Roman
Church, would yield obedience to St Peter and his vicar,
and that they have ordained, that synods should be called
every year ; that they should require the palls for metro-
politans of the holy see ; that they would follow the com-
mands of St Peter ; that metropolitans, who have received
the pall, should observe the behaviour of the bishops ; that
bishops should neither keep hunting dogs nor hawks ;
that the priests should visit all their charge in Lent, and
give the bishop an account of their conversation; that
bishops should visit their diocese every year ; that clergy-
men should not wear laymen's habits, nor bear arms ; that
metropolitans should judge their suffragan bishops in
their synod ; and the bishops shall bring to this synod all
persons whom they cannot reform, who shall be subject to
their metropolitans, and they to the bishop of Rome. The

BONIFACE. 521

remaining part of it is an exhortation to metropolitans to
discharge the functions of their ministry with vigilance,
and die rather than do any thing contrary to the sacred
laws of the Church. About the end he tells Cuthbert that
it were convenient to restrain the women and virgins of
England from going in such numbers to Rome, because
the greatest part of them were debauched, and caused
great scandal in the whole Church ; for there is scarce a
city, saith he, in Lombardy or France, where there are
not some English women of a wicked life. — Cave. Dupin.
Mabillon. Fleury.

Boniface, archbishop of Canterbury, was son of a
count of Savoy, and uncle to Eleanor of Provence, Henry
the third's queen. He was " besides the nobleness of his
birth a very graceful person and a fine gentleman," but
in every respect unfit to be an archbishop. Nevertheless.
when in 1244 the see of Canterbury was vacant, he was
elected as the successor of Edmund, commonly called St
Edmund, by the monks of Canterbury acting under the
influence of the king.

The king in order to have his election confirmed at
Home, had an instrument drawn up, and addressed to the
pope, in commendation of his uncle Boniface : he prevailed
with the bishops and abbots to put their seals to it, though
many of them are said to have been frightened into this
compliance. However, several of the prelates were men of
resolution, and chose rather to stand the king's displeasure
than sign the panegyric : and some of the monks of
Canterbury were so dissatisfied with their own votes, that
they quitted their convent, and bound themselves to a
perpetual penance in the Carthusian order. But though
Boniface was chosen this year, he was not confirmed by
the pope till two years after, nor consecrated till the year
1245.

While the question of his consecration was pending,
the English people, indignant at the usurpations of the
2x2

522 BONIFACE.

Roman see, drew up a spirited remonstrance. Certainly
this remonstrance exhibits no favourable account of the
medi-eval church, while it shews sufficiently the curse of
papal domination. They set forth in their complaint,
that these papal exactions were direct contradictions to
primitive practice : — that none of these demands were
made in the time of St Augustine, the English apos-
tle : — that when king Ethelbert endowed the churches
of London, Canterbury, and Rochester, the revenues
were designed for the clergy and monks of those places
to be spent at home, for the honour of religion, for the
relief of the poor, and the benefit of the country : — that
other cathedrals and churches were endowed upon the
same views, as appears by the founder's charters : that
this munificence of princes was always conveyed with
reservations of service in three cases ; that is, that the
Church was bound to contribute her proportion in pontage,
murage, and the expenses of war. Now, which way can
these designs be answered ? How can these services be
performed if the churches are thus polled by the court of
Rome, and the revenues drawn off into foreign countries ?
And what is all this assistance for? Why, it is to enable
his holiness to fight the emperor, that is, to put him into
a condition for ravage and blood-shed ; for burning of towns
and making a desolation in Christendom : and yet, when
the disciples asked our Saviour's permission to fight in
his defence, saying, Lord ! shall we smite with the sword ?
Our Saviour bid them put up their swords, and refused
their service this way. They urged, that the emperor was
nearly allied to the house of England : that the king's
sister was married to that prince at the request of the
Church, and that he had issue by her : and therefore, to
contribute against the emperor, was, in effect to impoverish
themselves, to confound the best blood in the kingdom,
and destroy the royal family. Besides, such contributions
would in all likelihood make the emperor break with the
king, and not assist him in his recovery of his dominions.

BONIFACE. 523

This complaint coming to the king's ear, he wrote to the
pope upon that subject : and in the close of the letter,
desired his holiness not to take it ill, if he contradicted
his instructions in some cases. For he was bound by his
royal office to do justice to all people, and redress the
grievances of his subjects.

These remonstrances, says Collier, it is probable, were
not very acceptable at the court of Rome, as appears by the
schemes laid against the crown. For now the pope, whether
out of interest or revenge is not certain, endeavoured to
draw David prince of Wales from his late engagements to
king Henry. The pope's design was, as the historian reports
it, to make himself sovereign of the principality of Wales.
David therefore, having promised to own his holiness
under that title, and pay him the yearly acknowledgment
of five hundred marks, was received into the popes
protection, and supported in his rebellion against king
Henry.

In 1244 he found Martin, the pope's nuncio, "another
harpy," as he is called, extorting money from the clergy,
and suspending the bishops of the church of England,
for refusing to prefer the pope's relations. He brought
over with him a parcel of blank bulls, which he might fill
at discretion. He applied to the king for countenance in
his exactions, but the king told him that the church was
in no condition to contribute to the pope's wants, and sent
him away dissatisfied. In the succeeding year, the barons,
resolving to free themselves from the tyranny of the court
of Rome, sent orders to the wardens of the ports to prevent
any persons from bringing any bulls or mandates from
the pope. In consequence of this, a messenger from the
pope was seized with certain bulls upon him ; and when
the king ordered him to be released, they laid before him
the value of the income enjoyed by Italian ecclesiastics in
England, amounting to 60,000 marks a year. Martin,
the pope's legate, was dismissed in the course of the year
by the barons, who also sent a letter to the council assem-
bled at Lyons, in which they state the pope's oppressions.

524 BONIFACE.

The pope pretended to give them satisfaction, but obliged
the pusillanimous bishops of the church of England, who
truckled to the court of Rome, to confirm with their seals
the charter of tribute which had been granted by king
John.

Boniface was at last consecrated by the pope at Lyons.
As he was better qualified for a general than a bishop, the
pope, who had laid hands on him, made him captain of
his guards, and gave him authority to keep the peace, and
secure the council from disturbance.

Again in 1246 the king, the bishops, the abbots, the
barons, and the commonalty of England remonstrated
with the pope, in letters from the different orders, on his
exactions. The pope conducted himself with a degree of
haughtiness which would have disgraced the meanest
Christian, and a rupture between the church of England
and the see of Rome, which might have antedated the
reformation, would undoubtedly have taken place, had it
not been for the mean compliance of the king, who at first
took his stand against the pope with his nobles, clergy,
and people. The king gave way, and the church and
state of England became a prey to Roman avarice.

In spiritual things, as well as temporal, the pope
shewed his disregard of all justice and religion1: he issued
a bull by which pluralities were allowed to the sons of
noblemen, and non-residence permitted to the court
clergy. These things should be noted by the laudators
of the middle ages, when they would institute a compari-
son between our church as it exists now, and our church
as it existed then.

When Boniface first entered upon his see, we are in-
formed by bishop Godwin that he found it in debt to the
amount of twenty- two thousand marks, by the " overlash-
ing of his predecessors," which he took for an excuse for
absenting himself from his charge, and also for raking
money together by all kind of means. Departing therefore
into his own country, by felling of woods, making leases and
other similar means, he made much money, promising to

BONIFACE. 525

employ the same and whatever he could save by living pri-
vately at home, in the payment of the debt upon his church.
Under the same pretence also he induced the pope to
grant him in commendam the bishopric of Valentia in
Provence, and several other spiritual promotions. But
his delight was war, and he spent all he could make in
hiring soldiers. When therefore (notwithstanding all
these helps) the debt was none the less, he was glad by
bribing the pope with a large sum of money, to procure
from him a grant of the profit of all spiritual preferments
that should be void within his province for the space of
seven years. The king for some time was indignant at
this grant, but in the end partly from fear of the pope (of
whom he stood in great awe), and partly by suit and in-
tercession, he ratified and allowed of the same. Having
thus been many years absent, Boniface returned into
England in 1250, and undertook a visitation of his pro-
vince in an extraordinary manner. All men knew that
it was rather to make money, than from any desire of
reformation, that the visitation was undertaken, and this
caused it to be opposed. He began first with his own
diocese, which he hampered with strict and unreasonable
orders, such as he knew men would rather " buy out-'
than observe ; so that every one said the monks of Can-
terbury were now justly rewarded for their folly in electing
an unlearned stranger, who was more fit to make a soldier
than an archbishop. Going afterwards to London, he
took occasion to defame the bishop. And being resisted
by the dean and chapter of St Paul's, (who had appealed
from his visitation to the pope) he excommunicated them.
Going the next day about the same business to the priory
of St Bartholomew's in Smithfield, he was met very
honourably by the subprior and all the convent in
their copes. But on his telling them that he came to
visit them, one of the convent answered him reverently,
that they were sorry he came for that purpose, for there
they must disappoint him: they knew their bishop (whose
only office it was) to be a very sufficient man for his

526 BONIFACE.

place, and so long they must not entertain the visitation
of any other. This answer so enraged the archbishop,
that, not being able to contain his anger within any bounds
of discretion, he ran violently up, not against the person
who had spoken, but against the subprior, who was stand-
ing next him, struck the poor old man down to the
ground, kicked him, tore his cope from his back, rent it to
pieces, and when he had done stamped upon it like a
madman. His attendants taking example of their lord,
treated the rest of the monks as he had treated the
subprior. By this time the Londoners were up, and
siding with their bishop, whom this injury originally
concerned, lay in wait for the archbishop, so that with
difficulty he stole secretly to the Thames side, and was
conveyed by a wherry provided for him to Lambeth. If
they had met with him, they would have destroyed him.
He was no sooner come home, but he issued his excom-
munications against not only the whole convent of St
Bartholomew, but against the bishop of London also, as
their patron. They all agreeing together, determined to
send the dean of St Paul's to Rome, whom they knew
the pope would credit, to advertise him of this strange
disorder. The archbishop being informed of this, followed
thither without loss of time, and entered Rome with great
pomp, nothing doubting but that the royal letters which
he had brought, his nobility and great lineage, or if all
failed, his purse, would bear him out in this matter. But
understanding how odious he was to all who heard of his
conduct, and that the pope was informed against him,
he entered into a treaty with his adversaries, the dean of
St Paul's and the others, whom partly by promises, and
partly by threats, he persuaded to forego their complaint.
That matter being so ended, he dealt earnestly with
the pope to ratify the doings of his visitation. The bishops
of his province understanding this, and knowing how great
an inconvenience it would be to them and all their clergy,
made a collection of twopence in the mark, out of all
spiritual promotions in the province, to be expended in

BONIFACE. 527

suit of law against the archbishop. In the mean time the
king had written his letters earnestly to the pope in the
archbishop's behalf, which so pacified him that the bishop
of London utterly despairing of any justice, gave over the
matter. Only thus much was obtained, that he, the
chapter of St Paul's, and the convent of St Bartholomew's
should be absolved from their excommunication.

Soon after this, the archbishop, taking advantage of a
trifling occasion, excommunicated again the dean and
chapter of St Paul's, which so exasperated all the clergy,
that they met at Dunstable, and there laying their purses
together, collected the sum of four thousand marks, with
which they determined to bribe the pope, if he would
deliver them from the misery of this unreasonable kind of
visitation. The pope took their money, and promised
them fair : and the archbishop seeing no remedy, except
by taking the same course, bribed him also. The pope,
whose affection was ever wont to be measured according
to his rewards, so divided his favour, that he took not
away from the archbishop all authority of visiting, and
yet so moderated the same with circumstances, as to ren-
der such visitations tolerable. As soon as Boniface re-
turned, he proceeded in his visitation, in which he con-
ducted himself at the first somewhat mildly, but soon
falling into his old ways, he caused every where such
tumults, that this was long after called by the name of
the troublous visitation. At Lincoln he quarrelled with
the chapter (the see being then vacant) about the gift of
prebends and benefices which he challenged, although
the patronage had ever heretofore in the vacancy belonged
unto them. William Lupus, archdeacon of Lincoln, espe-
cially resisted him in this matter, and appealed to the pope.
This poor man he so annoyed by the archbishop's excom-
munications, and every kind of molestation he could
devise, that at last he forced him to conceal himself and
to steal secretly to Rome, where he was so pitied that
the pope was entreated not only to absolve him, but to
protect him from the violence of Boniface, and at last to

528 BONIFACE.

decide the controversy on his side. The archdeacon com-
menced his homeward journey with assured hope of
restoring his church to her ancient privilege. But
being worn out with continual travel and vexation which
he had endured three years, de died on the journey.
While Boniface was visiting the rest of his province,
his monks of Christ church in Canterbury had procured
from the pope a charter of immunity from all visitation.
This being tendered unto him at St Alban's, he at once
threw it into the fire. The matter being complained
of both to the pope and the king, no redress could
be found. The king dared not disgrace him, for fear of
offending his queen, to whom he was uncle ; and the pope,
partly on account of his kindred, (who were powerful men
and his near neighbours) partly because he was his instru-
ment for polling England, and brought him in much
money, would hardly listen to any accusation against him.
This boisterous visitation ended, he went beyond sea, and
with the money he had scraped together, hired a great
number of soldiers to rescue his brother Thomas, some
time earl of Savoy, who was kept in prison by the citizens
of Taurinum, who could not endure his tyranny. In this
war he had the pope's bulls and excommunications at his
command to assist him, of which, having spent a great
many, all his money, and no small number of his soldiers
to no purpose, with shame and sorrow for his loss and
disgrace, he returned home. Toward the end of his time
he became more moderate, and applied himself in some
degree to the government of his church. The nation being
filled with strangers of the king's blood by his mother's
side, and their attendants, who appropriated to themselves
all places of preferment, especially ecclesiastical : he was
content to unite with other bishops in a request to the
king, in which he besought him to have some regard to
his own countrymen, among whem he might find choice
enough of wise, virtuous, and learned men.

The king replied, that his misconduct in these affairs
troubled his mind, and begged the bishops to assist him

BONIFACE. 529

in the work of reformation. " You remember,"' says the
king, " that I preferred this Boniface to the highest
station in the church, and advanced him to the see of
Canterbury. And you, William of Salisbury, who were
but a cursiter, cannot forget from what a slender employ-
ment you were thus promoted. And you, Silvester, of
Carlisle, were but an under clerk in the chancery, and
perfectly raised by your prince's favour, who overlooked a
great many divines of merit, to make you a great man.
And as for you brother Ethelmar, it is well known what
pains I took to browbeat and bribe the monks, to bring
you to the noble see of Winchester : when indeed, con-
sidering your defects in age, and learning, I should rather
have provided you a good preceptor. Now, my lords,
it concerns you no less than myself, to shew your re-
pentance for your want of qualifications, and resign those
promotions you have thus unjustly gained. Such an in-
stance of integrity will never be lost upon me. Such a
significant reprimand of my former partiality will put me
upon my guard for the future, and prevent me from pre-
ferring any person to a bishopric without due merit."

The bishops finding themselves somewhat embarrassed,
and that there was more under the king's jest than they
could wTell answer, told him, they did not move for any
retrospections, but only for security for the future. At
last, after a long debate, the lords spiritual granted the
king a tenth part of the revenues of the Church for three
years : the first payment of which was to commence, when
the king, by the advice of his barons, set forward in his
expedition to the holy land. And then the bishops pro-
ceeded to a solemn excommunication of those, who broke
any part of the great charters : and the king repeated his
oath to keep every article without any collusion, or indirect
practice whatsoever.

It is lamentable to read of such gross corruptions in our
venerable establishment, but as we read of them we cease
to wonder at the increasing desire of a reformation, and

VOL. II. 2 Y

530 BONIFACE.

the admirers of popery may draw from these facts the
profitable inference that our church was never more
corrupt than at a time when the pope usurped over it
the greatest authority.

In the articles of a provincial visitation we find some
questions put, which throw light on the condition of the
English church. Enquiry is made, whether any of the
clergy misbehave themselves with women. Whether any
beneficed persons are married ; whether any of the cleri-
cal order appear in military figure, and not in a habit
suitable to their character ; whether any rector or vicar is
the son of the last incumbent ; and lastly whether markets
are kept on Sundays. There are a variety of other ques-
tions relating to morals, and they are similar to the queries
still issued by bishops at their visitations.

In July. 1255, the king issued his writs to the suffra-
gans of the province of Canterbury to prohibit their meet-
ing in convocation, on the ground that no convocation or
council ought to be held when the king was in the field,
because the prelates as well as others were bound to repair
to the royal standard for the defence of the king and king-
dom. In this year the pope and conclave from interested
motives established a new imposition, and made an order
that every exempt abbot should take a journey to Rome
upon his election, to complete his character and receive
the pope's benediction. Matthew Paris complains of this
innovation, as very prejudicial to the ends of the monastic
institution; that it would occasion frequent disputes about
the validity of elections : that the discipline of the convent
would suffer by the absence of their elect ; and that the
king, having the custody of the abbeys in the vacancy, the
officers of the crown would have a longer opportunity to
prey upon the revenues. This decree of the court of
Rome was soon after enlarged to a farther encroachment
upon the Church. For now every elect, exempt or not
exempt, was obliged to cross the Alps, and empty hi*
coffers into the Roman exchequer. This order not only

BONIFACE. 531

affected the abbots, but extended to all the bishops' sees
where the chapter consisted of monastics.

On the Thursday after the feast of St Barnabas, Boni-
face summoned his suffragans to meet him in a synod at
Merton, in Surrey, where several constitutions were made
for the reformation of discipline ; they are said to be the
boldest constitutions ever made in a convocation of our
church. In the year 1*261 a provincial council was again
held at Lambeth with the same object in view, namely,
the protection of the Church from the aggressions of the
state. But the most remarkable synod during the primacy
of Boniface was the national synod held in London in
1*268 under cardinal Othobon, the pope's legate, at which
the Welsh as well as the English bishops attended. The
canons of this council were of great authority, and are
regarded as a rule of discipline to the church of England,
except of course where they have been superseded by
subsequent enactments. Several of them are still in force
and make part of our common law. In the third consti-
tution it is said that " the church of God not differing
as to its materials from private houses, by the invisible
mystery of dedication is made the temple of the Lord to
implore the expiation of sins and the divine mercy ; that
there may be in it a table at which the living bread is
eaten by way of intercession for the quick and the dead."
The notion here expressed is strange and unusual. Ipso
facto excommunication sprung up in this age. That
which distinguishes this excommunication from others
is, that it is incurred from the minute that the penal
act is committed, whereas other excommunications have
no effect till denounced. If indeed the fact by which a
man excommunicates himself is not known by any but
himself, it cannot expose him to the external conse-
quences of a Church censure, till by his own confession,
or some other means it comes to light, and till the sen-
tence has been published against him ; yet even in this
case he is supposed to be excommunicated in foro interno,
from the time of his committing the offence,

532 BONNER.

Boniface, conscious of bis unfitness for his high office,
had in his later years retired to Savoy, and there at the
castle of St Helen's he died on the 18th of July, 1270.
After describing his faults it is pleasant to be able to
record that he paid the debt of twenty-two thousand marks
in which he found his see involved. He built and en-
dowed a hospital at Maidstone ; and he completed the
stately hall at Canterbury, which had been begun by
Herbert. — Matt. Paris. Godwin. Collier. Johnsons Eccles.
Laws. Bapin.

Bonner, or Boner, Edmund. This ecclesiastical Nero,
the disgrace of the church of England in the 16th cen-
tury, was born at Hanley, in Worcestershire. About the
year 1512 he entered at Broadgate Hall, now Pembroke
College, in Oxford. He probably made choice of this col-
lege as it was resorted to by those who were training as
civilians and canonists. In 1519 he became B.C.L. He
never became a scholar, but was distinguished early in
life as a man well skilled in the affairs of the world. Soon
after taking his degree he was admitted into holy orders,
and was employed in the management of his affairs by
the bishop of Worcester. We find him, soon after, in
the employment of cardinal Wolsey, and he found in
him, as all his servants did, a liberal patron : though
the patronage extended to his friends was often injuri-
ous to the Church ; for instance, Bonner held the livings
of Blaydon and Cherry Burton in Yorkshire, of Ripple
in Worcestershire, and of East Dereham in Norfolk,
together with the prebend of Chiswick in St Paul's
church. In 1525 he took his doctor's degree. In 1535
he was archdeacon of Leicester. Although he resigned
his stall at St Paul's in 1539, and his living of East
Dereham in 1540, this accumulation of preferment on
one person shews how much the church needed reform,
although a complete reformation on this point was not
carried into effect till our own times. The piety of the
present archbishop of Canterbury, Dr Howley, has put a

BOX NEE. 5S3

Btop effectually to pluralities. The evil was the greater
in Bonner's case, as he was incessantly employed in state
affairs.

On the death of cardinal Wolsey, Bonner found another
patron in Henry VIII, who appointed him one of his
chaplains. It is very clear that a young man who com-
menced life with only ordinary advantages and yet obtained
employment early in life under such a minister as cardinal
Wolsey, though he may have lacked principle, must have
been a man of talent as well as a man of business. He
became useful to Henry. The reforming party was at this
time gaining ground, and it became the policy of the
court to countenance the reformers, who on their part too
easily yielded to political feeling, and aided the profligate
tyrant in his cruel designs against his faithful and pious
wife, Catherine of Arragon. Bonner went with the stream.
Bonner was a reformer, and was equally zealous in pro-
moting the royal divorce, in abrogating the pope's supre-
macy, and in circulating the Scriptures in the English
language. In every thing he seems to have devoted him-
self to the service of that unscrupulous minister, Thomas
Cromwell, now at the head of the reforming party. But
before this, he had been employed in some high posts
where he displayed more intrepidity than tact. He
accompanied sir Edward Carne to Rome in 1532. Sir
Edward was sent as excusator to apologize for the king's
not appearing either in person or by proxy to the cita-
tion of the papal court. As the pope and cardinals
were to be intimidated, Bonner «was considered a fit
person to undertake the mission, being skilled in the
canon law, and not restrained by any delicacy of feel-
ing from stating what would be offensive. His conduct
on this occasion gave such satisfaction at home, that
in the autumn of 1533 he was again despatched to the
pope, Clement VII. at that time at Marseilles. Henry
had before this married Ann Boleyn, and it had been
declared at Borne that all things done in England with

5S4 BONNER.

reference to the divorce from Catherine were null and
void, and that the king, moreover, was liable to excommu-
nication unless he restored things to the position in which
Ihej were before the divorce had been pronounced. He
was given till September, when the pope threatened to
proceed to excommunication. Thus Bonner appeared in
the papal court, the antagonist of papal usurpation. At
this time he, probably, as one of our reformers, desired
nothing more than a breach with Rome. The immediate
purpose of Bonner's mission was to deliver to the pope an
authentic instrument of the king's appeal from him to the
next general council lawfully called. Nothing could be
more proper than this course, except that of renouncing
all authority on the part of the pope to interfere. But
Clement was violently enraged. He promised, however, to
consider the subject in consistory, and the angry pope
having consulted his cardinals, gave answer that the
appeal was unlawful, and as for a general council he de-
clared, in ignorance, that the convocation of it belonged
to him, and not to the king. Dr Cranmer, archbishop of
Canterbury, having been threatened with a process from
Rome, put in an appeal at the same time to the next general
council. Bonner was not to be intimidated : he gave way
to his coarse impetuosity, and delivered the threats which
he was directed to make with such vehemence of manner,
and with so much fury of temper, that the astonished and
enraged pontiff talked of throwing him into a cauldron of
melted lead, or of burning him alive. If Bonner over-
stepped the bounds of decency, nothing could justify a
Christian bishop in exhibiting a temper so anti-christian :
and that the papal threats were not likely to terminate in
words was so strongly the conviction upon Bonner's mind,
that he soon made his escape from Rome. If Bonner
had at this time suffered death, he would have found a
place in Fox's Martyrology, and he would have come
down to posterity as a reformer and a martyr, instead of a
popish persecutor.

BONNE

That Bonner, who received great provocations at Rome,
did not exceed the powers given him in his commission
when threatening the pope, is apparent from the fact that
by the government at home he was subsequently em-
ployed in embassies to the kings of Denmark and France,
and to the emperor of Germany.

His employments abroad did not prevent his aiding
the cause of reformation at home. Stephen Gardiner's
famous book, De Vera Differentia regia Potestatis et I

?, was published in 1534 by the advice and consent
of convocation, which assured the king that the authority
and government in all matters and causes ecclesiastical
belonged to his estate, both by the word of God and the
ancient laws of the Church. It was reprinted in
and a stringent preface was prefixed to it by Bonner, who
had become archdeacon of Leicester the preceding year.
He therein accused the bishop of Rome of many grievous
and horrible crimes, alluding to the then pope : he said.
" he had made many laws to the contumely and reproach
of the majesty of God, under the title of
and the authorities of the apostles Peter and Paul. When
notwithstanding he is a ravening wolf, drest in sheep's
clothing, calling himself servant of servants, to the damage
of the Christian commonwealth."

In 1537 Bonner was a member of the commission which
drew up the treatise entitled the Institution of a Christian
Man. a work put forth by the reformers. And in
when he was ambassador at the court of France, he zeal-
ously promoted the printing of the English Bible. Of
this we will give an account in the words of Fox.

• It happened in 1540. that Thomas lord Cromwell and
earl of Essex, procured of the king of England his gracious
letters to the French king, to permit and license a subject
of his to imprint the Bible in English within the univer-
sity of Paris, because paper was there more meet and apt
to be had for the doing thereof, than in the realm of Eng-
land, and also that there were more store of good workmen
- ready despatch of the same. And in like manner

536 BONNER.

at the same time the said king wrote unto his ambassador,
Edmund Bonner, that he should aid and assist the doers
thereof in all their reasonable suits. The which bishop
outwardly shewed great friendship to the merchants that
were the imprinters of the same, and moreover did divers
and sundry times call and command the said persons, to
be in manner daily at his table, both dinner and supper,
and so much rejoiced in the workmanship of the said
Bible, that he himself would visit the imprinters house
where the same Bibles were printed, and also would take
part of such dinners as the Englishmen there had, and
that to his cost, which, as it seemed, he little weighed.
And further, the said Bonner was so fervent, that he
caused the said Englishmen to put in print a new Testa-
ment in English and Latin, and himself took a great
many of them, and paid for them, and gave them to his
friends. And it chanced the meantime, while the said
Bible was in printing, that king Henry the Vlllth pre-
ferred the said Bonner from the said bishopric of Hereford,
to be bishop of London, at which time, the said Bonner
according to the statute law of England, took his oath to
the king, acknowledging his supremacy, and called one of
the aforesaid Englishmen that printed the Bible, whom
he then loved, although afterward upon the change of the
world he did hate him as much, whose name was Richard
Grafton ; to whom the said Bonner said when he took his
6ath, " Master Grafton, so it is, that the king's most excel-
lent majesty hath by his gracious gift presented me to the
bishopric of London, for the which I am sorry, for if it
would have pleased his grace, I could have been well con-
tent to have kept mine old bishopric of Hereford." Then
said Grafton, " I am right glad to hear of it, and so I am
sure will be a great number of the city of London : for
they yet know you not, yet they have heard so much good-
ness of you from hence, as no doubt they will heartily
rejoice of your placing." Then said Bonner, " I pray God
I may do that may content them ; and to tell you Mr
Grafton, before God. (for that was common]}7 his oath) the

BONNER. 537

greatest fault that I ever found in Stokesley, was for vexing
and troubling of poor men, as Lobley the bookbinder and
other, for having the Scripture in English, and God will-
ing he did not so much hinder it, but I will as much
further it : and I will have of your Bibles set up in the
church of Paul's, at the least in sundry places six of them;
and I will pay you honestly for them and give you hearty
thanks." Which words he then spake in the hearing of
divers credible persons, as Edmund Stile, grocer, and
other. "But now Mr Grafton at this time I have specially
called you to be a witness with me that upon this trans-
lation of bishops' sees, I must according to the statute
take an oath unto the king's majesty acknowledging his
supremacy, which before God I take with my heart, and
so think him to be, and beseech Almighty God to save
him, and long to prosper his grace : hold the book sir,
and read you the oath" (said he) to one of his chaplains,
and he laid his hand on the book and took his oath. And
after this he shewed great friendship to the said Grafton,
and to his partner Edward Whitchurch, but especially
to Miles Coverdale, who was the corrector of the great
Bible.

" Now after that the foresaid letters were delivered, the
French king gave very good words, and was well content
to permit the doing thereof. And so the printer went
forward and printed forth the book even to the last part ;
and then was the quarrel picked to the printer, and he
was sent for to the inquisitors of the faith, and there
charged with certain articles of heresy. Then were sent
for the Englishmen that were at the cost and charge
thereof, and also such as had the correction of the same,
which was Miles Coverdale : but having some warning
what would follow, the said Englishmen posted away as
fast as they could to save themselves, leaving behind
them all their Bibles, which were two thousand five hun-
dred, called the Bibles of the great volume, and never
recovered any of them, saving that the lieutenant criminal
having them delivered unto him to burn in a place of

538 BONNER.

Paris (like Smithfield) called Maulbert Place, was somewhat
moved with covetousness, and sold four great drie fats of
them to a haberdasher to wrap caps in, and those were
bought again, but the rest were burned, to the great and
importunate loss of those that bare the charge of them.
But notwithstanding the said loss, after they had recover-
ed some part of the foresaid books, and were comforted
and encouraged by the lord Cromwell, the said English-
men went again to Paris, and there got the presses, letters,
and servants of the foresaid printer, and brought them to
London, and there they became printers themselves,
(which before they never intended) and printed out the
said Bible in London, and after that printed sundry im-
pressions of them : but yet not without great trouble and
loss, for the hatred of the bishops, namely, Stephen Gar-
diner, and his fellows, who mightily did stomach and
malign the printing thereof.

" Here by the way, for the more direction of the story,
thou hast loving reader, to note and understand that in
those days there were two sundry Bibles in English,
printed and set forth, bearing divers titles, and printed in
divers places. The first was called Thomas Matthew's
Bible, printed at Hamburgh, about the year of our Lord
1532, the corrector of which print was then John Rogers,
of whom ye shall hear more, Christ willing, hereafter.
The printers were Richard Grafton and Whitchurch. In
the translation of this Bible, the greatest doer was indeed
William Tindall, who with the help of Miles Coverdale
had translated all the books thereof, except only the
Apocrypha, and certain notes in the margin which were
added after. But because the said William Tindall in
the mean time was apprehended before this Bible was
fully perfected, it was thought good to them which had the
doing thereof, to change the name of William Tindall,
because that name then was odious, and to further it by a
strange name of Thomas Matthew, John Rogers the same
time being corrector to the print, who had then trans-
lated the residue of the Apocrypha, and added also cer-

BONNER. 539

tain notes thereto in the margin, and thereof came it to
be called Thomas Matthew's Bible. Which Bible of
Thomas Matthew, after it was imprinted and presented to
the lord Cromwell, and the lord Cramner, archbishop of
Canterbury, who liked very well of it, the said Cromwell
presented it to the king, and obtained that the same
might freely pass to be read of his subjects with his
grace's license : so that there was printed upon the same
book, one line in red letters with these words, — Set forth
with the king's most gracious license."

While at the court of Francis I, Bonner gave so great
offence on one occasion to that king, by the vehemence
and want of courtesy with which he applied for the
surrender of an English traitor who had fled to France,
that his majesty desired him to write three things to
the king his master: that his ambassador was a great
fool : that he caused better justice to be done in his
realm in one month, than they did in England in a
whole year : and that if it were not for the love he
bore his master he should have an hundred strokes
with a halbert But whatever was thought of him
in France, Cromwell was looking after his interests in
England. It was through the influence of Cromwell that
he was sent on these embassies, and now on the vacancy
of the see of Hereford, as stated above, he was nominated
as the successor of Edward Fox. But before he was con-
secrated, Stokesley bishop of London died, and Cromwell,
seeing the advantage of having a reformer in that import-
ant see, procured the translation of Bonner. He was con-
firmed on the 11th of November, 1539, and consecrated
on the 4th of April, 1540. At this time he took, as bishop
of London, an oath of fidelity to the king, which is as
follows :

" Ye shall never consent nor agree that the bishop of
Rome shall practise, exercise, or have any manner of
authority, jurisdiction, or power, within this realm, or any
other the king's dominions, but that ye shall resist the

540 BONNER.

same at all times to the uttermost of your power: and that
from henceforth ye shall accept, repute, and take the
kings majesty to be the only supreme head in earth of
the church of England, &c. So help you God, and all.
saints, and the holy evangelists."

Signed thus,
f In fidem prcemissorum Ego Edm. Boner
Elect, et Conjirmat. Londoniens. hide
prcesenti chartce subscripsi.

How well he kept this oath is known to every one. The
Bible for the printing of which he exerted himself when
in Paris was published by authority in 1540, when
Bonner caused six copies of it to be placed in St Paul's
church. The Bibles were chained to the pillars to pre-
vent over-zealous protestants from stealing them, and
they were accompanied by an admonition from bishop
Bonner to this effect : " That whosoever came there to
read, should prepare himself to be edified and made the
better thereby. That he should join thereunto his readi-
ness to obey the kings injunctions made in that behalf.
That he bring with him discretion, honest intent, charity,
reverence, and quiet behaviour. That there should
no such number meet together there, as to make a
multitude. That no exposition be made thereupon, but
what is declared in the book itself. That it be not read
with noise in time of divine service ; or that any disputa-
tion or contention be used at it."

He owed every thing to Cromwell, but base minds hate
their benefactors, fearing lest their promotion may be at-
tributed to the favour of a patron rather than to their own
talents ; and when Cromwell fell, Bonner, instead of sym-
pathizing with him in his misfortunes, seemed only to
fear lest he should participate in his ruin, and expressed
his regret that his benefactor had not been sooner arrested.
In the year 1540 we find bishop Bonner sitting upon a
commission appointed by the king to discuss certain

BONNER. 541

questions of religion. It may be interesting to read the
answers returned by Bonner to the different questions, as
shewing the opinions he held at this time.

The first Question. — What a Sacrament is by the
Scripture ?

Without prejudice to the truth, and saving always more
better judgment, cum facultate etiam melius deliberandi
in hac parte : —

To the first question ; I think that the Scriptures do
use this word Sacrament, in divers places, according to
the matter it treateth upon, Tobit, xii. Rev. i. Wisd. ii.
6. 12. Dan. ii. Ephes, i. 3, 5. Col. i. 1 Tim. 10.
Rev. xvii. ; as also it doth divers other words : yet, what a
Sacrament is by definition, or description of Scripture, I
cannot find it explicated openly. Likewise as I cannot
find the definition or description of the Trinity, nor yet
such-like things. Marry what other men can find, being
daily and of long season exercised in Scripture, I cannot
tell, referring therefore this thing to their better know-
ledge: —

2. Question. — What a Sacrament is by the ancient
authors ?

To the second; I find in authors this declaration,
Sacramentum est sacra? rei signum. Also, invisibilis
gratia? visibilis forma. Also, visibilis forma invisibilis
gratia? imaginem gerens et causa existens. And of the
verity and goodness of this description or declaration, I
refer me to the divines, better acquainted with this
matter than I am.

3. Question. — How many Sacraments there be by Scrip-
ture?

To the third ; I find not set forth the express number,
with express declaration of thus many and no more ; nor
yet of these expressly by Scripture which we use, espe-
cially under the name of Sacraments, saving only of
matrimony.

4. Question. — How many Sacraments there be by the
ancient authors ?

vol. n. 2 z

543 BONNER.

To the fourth ; I find that St Austin speaketh de
Baptismo, de Eucharistia, de Matrimonio, de Ordinatione
-•lericorum, de Sacramento Chrismatis et Unctionis : also
I find in the said St Austin, that in the old law there
were many Sacraments, and in the new law, few.

5. Question. — Whether this word Sacrament, be and
ought to be attributed to the seven only? and whether the
seven Sacraments be found in any of the old authors ?

To the fifth, I answer ; that this word, Sacrament, in
our language commonly hath been attributed to the seven
customably called Sacraments ; not for that yet, that the
word Sacrament cannot be applied to any more, but for
that the seven have been specially of very long and ancient
season received, continued and taken for things of such
sort.

6. Question. — Whether the determinate number of seven
Sacraments be a doctrine, either of the Scripture, or of the
old authors, and so to be taught ?

To the sixth ; I think it be a doctrine set forth by the
ancient fathers, one from another, taking their matter and
ground out of Scripture, as they understood it ; though
Scripture for all that doth not give unto all the seven, the
special names by which now they are called, nor yet
openly call them by the name of Sacrament, except only
| as is before said) the Sacrament of matrimony.

7. Question. — What is found in Scripture of the matter,
nature, effect, and virtue of such as we call the seven
Sacraments ; so as although the name be not there, yet
whether the thing be in Scripture or no, and in what wise
spoken of?

To the seventh, I find, that St Austin is of this sen-
tence : that where the Sacraments of the old law did
promise grace and comfort, the Sacraments of the new law
<lo give it indeed. And moreover he saith, that that the
Sacraments of the new law are, factu faciliora, pauciora,
salubriora and feliciora, more easier, more fewer, more
wholesomer, and more happy.

BOXXER. 541

B. Question. — Whether Confirmation, cum chrismate, of
them that be baptized, be found in Scripture ?

To the eighth ; I find in Scripture, in many places, de
impositione manuum, -which I think (considering the
usage commonly and so long withal used) to be confirma-
tion ; and that with chrism, to supply the visible appear-
ance of the Holy Ghost, which Holy Ghost was so visibly
seen in the primitive church : nevertheless, for the perfecr
declaration of the verity hereof, I refer it to the judgment
of men of higher knowledge in this faculty.

9. Question. — Whether the apostles, lacking a higher
power, as in not having a Christian king among them.
made bishops by that necessity, or by authority given by
God?

To the ninth ; I think the Apostles made bishops by
the law of God, because, Acts xxii, it is said, In quo vos
spiritus sanctus posuit : nevertheless, I think if Christian
princes had been then, they should have named by right,
and appointed the said bishops to their rooms and
places.

10. Question. — Whether bishops or priests were first'.'
and if the priests were first, then the priest made the
bishop.

To the tenth ; I think the bishops were first, and yet I
think it is not of importance, whether the priest then
made the bishop, or else the bishop the priest ; consider-
ing (after the sentence of St Jerome) that in the beginning-
of the Church there was none (or if it were, very small |
difference, between a bishop and a priest, especially touch-
ing the signification.

11. Question. — Whether a bishop hath authority to
make a priest by the Scripture, or no ? And whether any
other but only a bishop may make a priest ?

To the eleventh, I think, that a bishop duly appointed,
hath authority, by Scripture, to make a bishop, and also a
priest : because Christ being a bishop did so make Him-
self; and because also His apostles did the like.

12. Question. — Whether in the New Testament be re-

544 BONNER.

quired any consecration of a bishop and priest, or only
appointing to the office be sufficient?

To the twelfth ; I think consecration of a bishop and
priest be required, for that in the old law (being yet but a
shadow and figure of the new) the consecration was re-
quired, as appears, Lev. viii, yet the truth of this I leave
to those of higher judgments.

13. Question. — Whether (if it fortuned a Christian
prince learned, to conquer certain dominions of infidels,
having none but temporal learned men with him) if it be
defeuded by Gods law, that he and they should preach
and teach the word of God there, or no ? And also make
and constitute priests, or no ?

To the thirteenth and fourteenth following; I think
that necessity herein, might either be a sufficient rule and
warrant to determine and order such cases, considering
that tempore necessitatis mulier baptizat, and laicus idem
facit, and audit confessionem : or else that God would in-
spire in the prince's heart, to provide the best and most
handsome remedy therein : and hard were it peradventure
to find such great necessity, but either in the train of the
said prince, or in the regions adjoining thereunto, there
might be had some priests for the said purposes; or,
finally, that the prince himself, godlily inspired in that
behalf, might, for so good purposes and intents, set forth
the act indeed, referring yet this thing to the better judg-
ment of others.

14. Question. — Whether it be forefended by God's law,
that (if it be so fortune that all the bishops and priests
of a region were dead, and that the word of God should
remain there unpreached, and the Sacrament of Baptism,
and others unministered) that the king of that region
should make bishops and priests to supply the same,
or no?

Ut supra, quaest. 13.

15. Question. — Whether a man be bound by authority
of this Scripture, (quorum remiseritis) and such like, to

BONNER. 545

confess his secret deadly sins to a priest, if he may have
him, or no ?

To the fifteenth ; I think that as the sinner is bound
by this authority to confess his open sins, so also he is
bound to confess his secret sins, because the special end
to wit, absolutionem a peccato cujus fecit se servurn, is
all one in both cases : and that all sins as touching God
are open, and in no wise secret or hid.

16. Question. — Whether a bishop or a priest may excom-
municate, and for what crimes ? And whether they only
may excommunicate by God's law ?

To the sixteenth ; I think that a bishop may excom-
municate, taking example of St Paul with the Corinthian ;
and also of that he did to Alexander and Hymeneus.
And with the lawyers it hath been a thing out of question,
that to excommunicate solemnly, appertaineth to a bishop,
although otherwise, both inferior prelates and other
officers, yea and priests too in notorious crimes, after
divers men's opinions, may excommunicate semblably, as
all others that be appointed governors and rulers over any
multitude, or spiritual congregation.

17. Question. Whether unction of the sick with oil, to
remit venial sins, as it is now used, be spoken of in the
Scripture, or in any ancient authors ?

To the seventeenth ; I think that albeit it appeareth
not clearly in Scripture, whether the usage in extreme
unction now, be all one with that which was in the be-
ginning of the Church : yet of the unction in time of sick-
ness, and the oil also with prayers and ceremonies, the
same is set forth in the epistle of St James, which place
commonly is alleged, and so hath been received, to prove
the Sacrament of extreme unction.

Ita mihi Edmundo Londinensi episcopo pro hoc
tempore dicendum videtur, salvo judicio
melius sentientis, cui me prompte & humi-
liter subjicio.

He also bore his part in the shameful proceedings of
2z2

546 BONNER.

this year in convocation, by which the king's marriage
with Ann of Cleves was declared null and void.

It is well known that the reformers were out of favour
during much of the latter part of Henry's reign, and that
the Romanizing interest was in the ascendant; and our
reformer, Bonner, gave unequivocal symptoms of his being
prepared to leave his first friends, and to adopt the prin-
ciples in vogue at court. He cared nothing for religion,
and acted only as a politician, but he gave early signs
of his persecuting temper, for he received a particular
commission addressed to himself in 1540, for carrying
into full effect what are called the six bloody articles,
passed in the parliament of 1539. He was appointed to
administer the oath to the other commissioners for the
execution of the act, which he did at Guildhall. There
the jury were sworn, and the bishop of London charged
them to spare none. In almost all the parishes of London
some were brought into trouble, amounting to nearly two
hundred. Others being brought to the metropolis from
other quarters, the prisons of London were full.

The death of Henry VIII found Bonner ambassador at
the imperial court, and attached to the conservative and
Romanizing party in England, which, with Gardiner at
the head, was opposed to the reforming party, and to
Cranmer their leader. It was soon apparent that the
reformers would obtain power at the young king's court,
but how long they would preserve it was doubtful. He
knew that Cranmer had but a low opinion of his merits,
and that he could never expect favours from him or his
adherents, and he therefore determined to stand by the
party to which he found himself attached at the time.
His conduct during the reign of Edward was cautious,
and he certainly received hard measure. Cranmer took
out a license, on the kings accession, for the exercise of
his spiritual functions. It was an erastian act, but Bon-
ner did the same. The commission granted by the king
was only during pleasure, durante bene placito. Bishop

BONNER U1

Burnet remarks, that this extraordinary mode of proceed-
ing was only for the purpose of meeting the present junc-
ture ; the reforming government thought proper to retain
in their hands the power of suspending a bishop, who
might refuse to accede to their regulations. If bishops,
like Cranmer and Bonner, condescended to receive a
license at all, they could of course have no right to com-
plain that the license was limited to the royal pleasure.
Bishop Burnet, however, observes that by the letters
patent it is clear that the episcopal function was acknow-
ledged to be of divine appointment, and that the person
was no otherwise named by the king, than as lay patrons
present to a living. Whether this reasoning be the spe-
cial pleading of an advocate, or an assertion made in
Christian simplicity, the reader will judge.

The privy council being entirely in the reforming inter-
est, issued a commission by which visitors were appointed
to the different dioceses of our church, to whom six cir-
cuits were assigned. The visitors were selected from the
laity as well as the clergy, and each circuit was provided
with a preacher. The business of the preacher was to
denounce superstition, and to prepare the way for the
projected reformations in our venerable establishment.
With each parish priest they also left, besides the para^
phrase of Erasmus, some of the homilies, now forming the
first book, supposed to be the composition of Dr Cranmer,
archbishop of Canterbury, assisted by Ridley, Latimer,
Hopkins, and Becon.

Before the visitors entered upon their duties, the arch-
bishop of Canterbury sent his mandate by virtue of the
king's letter to bishop Bonner, the purport of which was
•to inhibit the archbishops and bishops from exercising
any jurisdiction while the visitation continued. Even the
bishops were prohibited from preaching except in their
own cathedrals, and the inferior clergy were confined to
their parish churches, unless they had a special license
from the king.

The bishop of London determined to oppose the reform:

548 BONNER.

ing government upon this ground. It must be admitted
that the measure was an extreme one, that it can only be
justified by the necessity of the case, and that on sound
ecclesiastical principles it cannot be defended. Here then
he appeared in opposition. On the first of September he
was summoned to attend before the visitors in his own
cathedral church of St Paul's. Here he immediately took
the oaths of abjuration and supremacy. He could hardly
do otherwise, without involving himself in a charge of
inconsistency, and giving evidence of his being under the
influence of factious motives. But when he was required
to receive the injunctions issued by the visitors and the
homilies, he offered to comply but with a certain reserva-
tion ; " I do receive these injunctions and homilies with
this protestation, that I will observe them if they be not
contrary or repugnant to God's law, and the statutes and
ordinances of this church." An ultra-protestant would
conceive his conscience to be violated if he were to be re-
quired to receive the injunctions and homilies of " fallible
men," without this reservation expressed or implied ; and
Bonner having been himself a reformer, may have thought
that for consistency's sake the reform government would
have permitted him to proceed thus far. He was mis-
taken. Reform governments are often arbitrary in their
proceedings, and so it was then. The visitors of course
perceived the object of Bonner, which was to set the com-
mission at defiance without getting himself into trouble,
and they complained of his conduct to the council. Bonner
had no notion of becoming a martyr in any sense of the
word, as a modern bishop is reported to have said, and
therefore, upon due consideration, he addressed the king
for permission to make a more implicit and unconditional
submission, which was done before his majesty and the
privy council in the form following :

" Whereas I Edmund, bishop of London, have at such
time as I received the king's majesty's my most dread
Sovereign lord's, injunctions and homilies at the hands of
his highness's visitors, did unadvisedly make such protes-

BONNER. 549

tation, as now, upon better consideration of my duty of
obedience, and of the ill example that may ensue to others
thereof, appeareth to me neither reasonable, nor such as
might well stand with the duty of an humble subject; for-
asmuch as the same protestation, at my request, was then
by the Register of that visitation enacted and put in
record ; I have thought it my bounden duty, not only to
declare before your lordships, that I do now, upon better
consideration of my duty, renounce and revoke my said
protestation, but also most humbly beseech your lordships,
that this my revocation of the same may likewise be put in
the same records for a perpetual memory of the truth :
most humbly beseeching your good lordships, both to take
order that it may take effect, and also that my former
unadvised doings may by your good mediations, be par-
doned of the king's majesty."

Nothing could be more mean-spirited than the whole
conduct of Bonner, but the council wished to keep him
for a little time out of the way, and notwithstanding his
abject submission committed him to the Fleet. He re-
mained in confinement there only a few weeks, but they
were important weeks, for during the time of his restraint,
the English litany was sung at St Paul's, and at high
mass the Epistle and Gospel were read in the vernacular
tongue. The whole proceeding appears so very strange,
that we cannot help suspecting that Bonner must by way
of compromise have consented to a temporary restraint,
that these alterations might be made without his being the
person responsible for them. This suspicion is confirmed,
if what Heylin tells us be the fact : Bonner on his release
so far from making a clamour, and remonstrating with the
government on the hard measure he received, shewed his
willingness still to act in his old character of reformer,
and caused the figures of the Virgin Mary and St John, and
all the other images in St Paul's, and the other London
churches, to be taken down. In doiug this he went be-
yond the order in council ; for the injunctions required
only the removal of images, which had been abused by

550 BONNER.

pilgrimages and unwarrantable worship, but those which
served for memory and instruction they permitted to
stand, and indeed recommended their use.

Bonner was evidently in the market, and might have
been bought, but it is probable the man's character was
known, and he was despised. He assented to the acts of
the reforming government, and executed every order that
was sent him so readily, that, as Burnet observes, there was
not so much as ground for any complaint. In 1548 the
reformation of the offices of our beloved church was so far
completed, that the first liturgy of Edward was published.
When completed by a committee duly appointed, the
prayer book was revised and approved by the two con-
vocations of Canterbury and York, or rather by a ma-
jority of these bodies, and was then submitted for the
acceptance of the nation in parliament. In the house of
commons it received immediate assent ; but in the house
of lords it continued longer under deliberation, and among
the dissentients who protested, we find the name of the
bishop of London. An act, nevertheless, was passed, for
the use of the revised book of common prayer throughout
the kingdom, entitled " An act for the uniformity of
divine service." In this act it is stated that the king had
enjoined those by whom the ancient ritual and office books
of our church were received and reduced into one book, to
" have regard to the direction of the holy Scriptures, and
the usages of the primitive church." This work, it was
stated, was now finished by the persons appointed with
one uniform agreement, " by the aid of the Holy Ghost."

It would seem that the bishop of London now despair-
ing of receiving the confidence of Edward's government,
had attached himself more closely to the old conservative
and Romanizing party. But there was as yet no open
rupture. Of course there was in many quarters opposition,
more or less open, to the plans of the reforming govern-
ment, according to the inclinations of the bishops and the
justices of the peace. In St Paul's church it was found
that in 1549, notwithstanding the act of uniformity, the

BOXXEK. 551

apostles' mass, and our lady's mass, and other masses,
" under the defence and nomination of our Lady's Commu-
nion," were used in the private chapels, and other remote
places of the same church, though not in the chancel ;
contrary to the king's injunctions. Therefore the lord
protector, and others of the council, wrote to the bishop,
June 24, complaining of this, and ordering that no such
masses should be used in St Paul's church any longer ;
and that the holy communion, according to the act of par-
liament, should be ministered at the high altar of the
church, and in no other place of the same, and only at
such times as the high masses were wont to be used ; ex-
cept some number of people, for their necessary business,
desired to have a communion in the morning ; and yet the
same to be exercised in the chancel at the high altar, as
was appointed in the book of public service. Accordingly
Bonner directed his letters to the dean and chapter of St
Paul's, to call together those that were resident, and to
declare these matters.

In this year it is well known that the government was
justly alarmed by insurrectionary movements in different
parts of the country, and Bonner was suspected of con-
niving at them. It does not seem that there was any
proof of his direct encouragement to the rebels, but he
was known to be discontented, and perhaps expecting
that a change of government might be effected by the
disturbances, he became less cautious. The reform
government, by a stretch of authority, determined to put
him to the proof, and on the 11th of August he was called
before the council, and ordered to preach at St Paul's Cross
within the next three weeks ; to administer the commu-
nion at all times when his predecessors had been used to
say mass ; to summon before him such as absented them-
selves from the English service ; to be more careful in
repressing adultery and fornication; and to remain at
home during the time which would elapse before the
delivery of his prescribed sermon. It was ordered, that
he should, in this discourse, inculcate the wickedness of

552 BONNER.

rebellion, the superiority of practical holiness over ceremo-
nial observances, and the competence of a minor king to
make laws binding upon his subjects. On the 1st of Sep-
tember was delivered the expected sermon to a very
uumerous audience. In this discourse were some observ-
ations upon rebellion and upon ceremonies, but nothing
upon the obedience due to a sovereign under age. There
was, however, other matter calculated to keep alive popu-
lar irritation. This matter is considered with great pro-
bability to have been a vehement defence of transubstan-
tiation. Among the hearers were John Hooper, soon
afterwards bishop of Gloucester, and William Latimer,
incumbent of St Laurence Pountney, in the city of Lon-
don ; and these divines presented an accusatory statement,
or denunciation, as it is called, of Bonner's sermon, to the
king in council.

It was most important to treat the bishop's disobedi-
ence with some severity, because many of the rebels
openly declared their determination to obey no new laws,
until the king should have arrived at the age of twenty
years. Accordingly, on the 8th of September was issued
a commission, under the great seal, directed to archbishop
Cranmer, bishop Ridley, sir William Petre, and sir
Thomas Smyth, the two secretaries of state, and Dr May,
the dean of St Paul's ; empowering them to require the
bishop of London's attendance, to hear such matters as
might be objected against him, and if the charges should
be proved, to suspend, excommunicate, imprison, or de-
prive him, as it should seem to them most fit. The com-
mission is grounded upon Bonner's disobedience in his
recent sermon, which, it is said, he was required to preach,
''upon certain complaints before made, and other great
considerations." On the 10th of September, the bishop
appeared at Lambeth ; all the commissioners excepting
Smyth being present. Nothing could exceed the levity
and insolence displayed by this unworthy prelate in the
presence of his judges. He entered the room in which
they sat with his cap upon his head, as if he did not see

BONNER. 553

them ; and when one of those who stood by, pulling him
by the sleeve, reminded him that it might be proper to
take some respectful notice of the distinguished persons
before him, he turned to Cranmer, and said with a laugh:
" What are you here, my lord ? By my troth, I saw you
not." "No," replied the archbishop, "you would not
see." "Well," rejoined Bonner, "you have sent for me
here ; have you any thing to say unto me ?" "Yea," said
the commissioners, " we have here authority from the
king's highness to call you to account for neglecting, in
your late sermon, to discourse upon that point which you
were expressly commanded to handle." Of these words
the accused prelate took no notice, but turning to Cran-
mer, he said, " In good faith, my lord, I would one thing
were had more in reverence than it is." The primate
asked, " Pray, what is that thing ?" The reply was,
" The blessed mass : a sacrament upon which your grace
has written very well, and I marvel much that you do not
honour it more." To this Cranmer answered, "If your
lordship think well of my book, it is because you under-
stand it not." Bonner rejoined, " I think that I under-
stand it better than yourself." Upon this the archbishop
said, " I could easily make a child of ten years old
understand it better than you : but what is that to the
purpose?" Business was then begun by a formal state-
ment of the charges objected to the accused, and by an
examination of the two principal witnesses. When their
testimony was concluded, Bonner utterly denied its truth,
and turning them into ridicule, said, " One of them
speaks like a goose, the other like a woodcock." Others
were then called, who had been present at the delivery of
the sermon under consideration, and interrogated as to
whether the preacher had inculcated the duty of obedience
to a minor king. A negative answer being given, the
accused prelate turned round, and said, " Will you believe
this fond people ?" At length he drew from his bosom a
protest in Latin, designating both the proceedings and
vol. n. 3 a

554 BONNER.

the commissioners, as pretended, and reserving to himself
the right of excepting against any thing that might be
done in his case hereafter, upon the ground of his not
having hitherto seen the commission. He then requested
to see the written charges preferred against him, and
having read them, he said that there was a vagueness
about them which rendered a specific reply difficult. On
this, the archbishop observed, " The particular matter of
complaint against your lordship, is your having omitted to
inculcate, upon a late occasion, the duty of obedience to a
sovereign under age, according to the injunction delivered
to you from the proper authority." Latimer and Hooper
were now desired to come forward again, and to depose as
to the particulars of what they heard at Paul's Cross.
At the close of their evidence, Bonner, looking at them
earnestly, thus broke forth : "As for this merchant,
Latimer, I know him very well, and have borne with him,
and winked at his evil doings a great while : but I have
more to say to him hereafter. But as touching this other
merchant, Hooper, I have not seen him before : howbeit,
I have heard much of his naughty preaching. Ah ! my
lord of Canterbury, I see that my present trouble is not
for the matter pretended, but for my having asserted in
my sermon the true presence of our Lord's blessed body
and blood in the Sacrament of the altar. Touching
this sacrament, my accusers are manifest and notorious
heretics ; especially this Hooper. On the afternoon of
the day in which I preached, this man, having a great
rabblement of his damnable sect about him, like an ass
as he is, falsely said, that I had asserted the Lord's body
and blood after sacramental consecration to be the very
same as it hung, and as it was shed upon the cross.
Whereas I preached and affirmed, that the true body and
blood of our Saviour is in the Sacrament, the self same
that was hung, and shed upon the cross." Cranmer then
said, " My lord of London, ye speak much of a presence
in the Sacrament ; what presence is there ?" This ques-

BONNER. 555

tion caused the blood to mount into Bonner's face, and
with considerable vehemence, he replied, " What presence,
my Lord ? I say and believe, that there is the very true
presence of the body and blood of Christ. What and how
do you believe, my lord?" The archbishop rejoined:
M Do you then believe, that in the Sacrament are present
the Saviour's face, nose, eyes, lips, arms, and other
members of his body ?" Bonner shook his head ; and
said, " Oh, I am right sorry to hear your grace use such
language." He then proposed to argue at greater length
upon transubstantiation ; but this was refused upon the
ground, that the commissioners had assembled to execute
the king's orders, not to moot a question of theology.
When the accused found, that the business in hand was
the only one to which his judges would attend, he desired,
still protesting against the competence of the court, to be
furnished with a copy of the commission issued against
him, with another of the evidence tendered in support of
the case, and to have some time allowed for the prepara-
tion of his defence. These demands were granted, and
the court adjourned.

On the 13th of the same month, the commissioners met
again in the archbishop's chapel at Lambeth. Secretary
Smyth now taking his place at the board, Bonner
objected to his presence as illegal, because he was absent
on the former day. This objection, however, was over-
ruled, and the bishop entered upon his defence. This
was plentifully garnished with invectives against Latimer
and Hooper, whom he styled vile and infamous persons,
justly excommunicated by the common consent of Chris-
tendom, on account of heretical writings published by the
latter of the two, and on account of the heretical sermons
delivered by both against transubstantiation. Of his own
discourse he then proceeded to give some account. From
this it appears, that he enlarged upon the sinfulness of
the rebellious, and upon transubstantiation. He also
inculcated the duty of obedience to the king, but it does
not seem that he touched upon the pretence then so rife

556 BONNER.

among the agitators, drawn from Edward's minority.
That fact, he observed, was known to the whole world, and
he added, that he certainly should not have inculcated
the danger and iniquity of disobeying the royal authority,
unless he had been fully persuaded of its validity under a
minor sovereign. The bishop's apology was justly deemed
unsatisfactory, and the case proceeded. As for his two
principal accusers, Cranmer said, that if there were any
law against receiving the evidence of such persons, it must
be a bad law, proceeding from the bishop of Rome, and
one of which a man unjustly accused would not readily
avail himself. " No, sir, it is the king's law," said Bonner.
" Well, my lord," replied the primate, " I wish you had
less knowledge in that law, and more knowledge in God's
law and in your duty." The accused rejoined: "Seeing
your grace falleth to wishing, I can also wish many things
to be in your person." In order to stop this unseemly
recrimination, the two secretaries interposed, one after the
other, and informed the bishop, that since he objected so
strongly to the evidence of the two principal witnesses
against him, the case could be established by other means,
and that no attention would be paid to the legal quibbles
by which it was sought to delay the proceedings. Petre
then asked him, " Did you write your sermon, my lord,
or no ?" The answer was, " I wrote it not : I merely
drew up some notes for my direction in the delivery of it."
The business of the day soon after closed without the far-
ther occurrence of any thing material.

Within three days afterwards, the court having met
again in the archbishop's chapel, Latimer declared that
he had been falsely accused of heresy and of conspiring
with Hooper ; he never having holden any communica-
tion with that divine until after the day on which the
bishop delivered his sermon. Hooper also defended him-
self from the imputation of having preached or published
heretical doctrines, by shewing that he had maintained no
opinions at variance with Scripture. In his defence he
termed Bonner, reprehensibly it must be admitted,

BONNER. 55*2

"That ungodly man." The accused prelate, however,
retorted upon him by saying, " I have here this varlet's
books, against the blessed Sacrament; and" from them I
will convict him of heresy." He then proceeded to turn
over the leaves of some books which he drew from his
sleeve. While thus engaged, Hooper began to speak
again : "Put up your pipes," said Bonner, " you have
spoken for your part." He then proceeded to read ex-
tracts from the books in his hands, but in a manner so
light and ridiculous, that the spectators behind began to
laugh. This disconcerted him, and turning round with a
strong expression of anger, he said, " Ah, woodcocks :
woodcocks." After this sally of intemperate absurdity,
Cranmer addressed the spectators to warn them against
believing that the bishop was brought into trouble for
his opinions upon transubstantiation. The commis-
sioners, would not permit Bonner to reply ; but it was
found impossible to prevent him from charging the arch-
bishop with having published at different times two books
respecting the Eucharist, which contradicted each other.
This Cranmer denied. After some farther altercation be-
tween the two prelates, it was determined to call for the
defence without more delay. His apology proved very
lame. He had begun to write his sermon, he said, but
becoming weary, had soon contented himself with merely
making notes ; that these contained many examples, both
scriptural and from profane histories, of kings obeyed
during their minority ; that his notes, however, unfortun-
ately proved of inconsiderable use to him, partly, because
his little practice in preaching, rendered his memory in
the pulpit not so effective as he could have wished, partly,
because the council had sent to him to read a long account
of successes obtained over the rebels, and partly, because
some of his papers slipped away from him while he was
engaged in the delivery of his discourse. Such excuses
being deemed of little value, the proceedings continued,
and at the fifth session, the accused prelate was com-
mitted to the Marshalsea by order of sir Thomas Smyth,
3a 2

558 BONNER.

for refusing to answer some interrogatories offered to him.
At the seventh session, held on the 1st of October, by
the act of all the five employed in the investigation, who
called themselves commissioners, or judges delegate, he
was deprived of the bishopric of London, together with all
its rights and emoluments. The grounds of this sentence,
are, his connivance at adultery within his diocese, and at
the conduct of those who followed foreign religious rites
disapproved by the national church ; his absence from the
sermons at Paul's Cross, and moreover his letters ad-
vising the lord mayor and aldermen to absent themselves ;
and his omitting to inculcate in his prescribed sermon
the duty of obeying a minor sovereign.

There seems to be little cause for doubt that the commis-
sioners had information that Bonner was more deeply im-
plicated in the insurrectionary movements than they could
prove, and his conduct is very suspicious. Why should a
person so unscrupulous hesitate to preach as the council
directed? Why omit in his sermon the very portion which
they most insisted upon, although, when brought before
them, he admitted the principle which he neglected pub-
licly to maintain? The obvious answer is, that his tongue
was tied, because it was known to many that he had as-
serted that the king's laws were not obligatory during his
minority, and that people were not obliged to obey his
authority until he was of age. The rebels would have
attacked him if he had obeyed the court. Bonner now
might understand, why, when he condescended to apply
for a license to act as bishop of London, the license
was granted merely during the king's pleasure. Bonner
was deprived, not on ecclesiastical grounds, but as a trai-
tor; and the governments of all countries have assumed
the power of depriving traitors of their sees.

It is however impossible wholly to justify the proceedings
against Bonner, or the manner in which they were con-
ducted. Bonner's insolence may have been intolerable, but
even the friendly pen of Fox represents the members of the
court, including Cranmer, as conducting themselves with-

BONNER. 559

out any dignity, and with little display of Christian tem-
per. We should not have expected it in Bonner, but in
the others we look for it, though we look in vain.

Bonner now in retirement brooded over his wrongs,
real or imaginary, and prepared his mind for that san-
guinary revenge which has rendered his name a byword
to all generations. He was succeeded in his bishopric by
the bishop of Rochester, Dr Ridley. One is always pleased
to find traits of good in this excellent and learned man,
and we are told, on his taking possession of the see of
London, of " his gentle and kindly pity in the usage of
an old woman called mistress Bonner, mother to doctor
Bonner, sometime bishop of London ; which I thought
good to touch, as well for the rare clemency of Dr Ridley,
as the unworthy immanity and ungrateful disposition
again of Dr Bonner. Bishop Ridley being at his manor
of Fulham, always sent for the said mistress Bonner,
dwelling in an house adjoining to his house, to dinner
and supper, with one mistress Mongey, Bonner's sister,
saying, Go for my mother Bonner ; who coming, was ever
placed in the chair at the table's end, being so gently
intreated, welcomed, and taken, as though he had been
born of her own body ; being never displaced of her seat,
although the king's council had been present, he saying,
when any of them were there (as divers times they were)
by your lordships' favour, this place of right and custom
is for my mother Bonner. But how well he was recom-
pensed for this his singular gentleness, and pitiful pity
after, at the hands of the said Dr Bonner, almost the least
child that goeth by the ground can declare. For who
afterward, was more enemy to Ridley than Bonner and
his ? Who more went about to seek his destruction than
he? recompensing his gentleness with extreme cruelty.
As well appeared by the strait handling of Ridley's own
natural sister, and George Shipside her husband, from
time to time : whereas the gentleness of the other did
suffer Bonner's mother, sister, and other his kindred, not
only quietly to enjoy all that which they had of Bonner,

560 BONNER

but also entertained them in his house, shewing much
courtesy and friendship daily unto them : whereas on the
other side, B. Bonner being restored again, would not suffer
the brother and natural sister of B. Ridley, and other his
friends, not only not to enjoy that which they had by the
said their brother bishop Ridley, but also churlishly with-
out all order of law or honesty, by extort power wrested
from them all the livings they had."

Queen Mary, having overcome all opposition, entered
London, August 3rd, 1552, and gave a pardon to Bonner
two days afterwards. On the 16th of that month, he
attended a sermon preached by Bourn, his chaplain, at
St Paul's Cross, on the passage of Scripture which he
had himself discussed there four years before. In this
discourse he was described as unjustly treated in the
late reign ; but some of the auditors exclaimed that
he had preached abomination, and a tumult ensued,
which is noticed in the histories of that period. On
the 2 2d of the month, a commission was issued to
certain civilians for considering his deprivation. They
pronounced it void, but their sentence was not formally
promulged until September 5th. He seems, however, to
have already acted as diocesan, the Latin service being
again used in St Paul's, August 27th, most probably by
his authority. By law it stood prohibited until the end of
October, when an act was passed repealing king Edward's
legislation, and restoring the old Romish liturgy, on the
20th of December. Bonner was equally prompt in de-
priving the married clergy of his diocese, taking upon
himself to inflict this hardship upon them in February,
1554, although the royal authority for his purpose was not
issued until March 4th.

In 1554 he was made vice-gerent and president of
convocation in the room of archbishop Cranmer ; and in
the summer of the same year he commenced the visitation
of his diocese with a special view of abolishing all the re-
forms which had been adopted in the preceding reign. It
would seem that Bonner had a suspicion that his having

BONNER. 561

once been a reformer might render him suspected by the
new government as not being sufficiently devoted to the
cause of Rome. Although he had not very boldly opposed
the late government, yet he had suffered, in some respects, as
a Romanizer, although actually as one guilty of misprision
of treason. He was determined in his visitation to shew
that he had no remains of a reforming disposition left in
him. An account of this visitation is preserved, and al-
though Fox is a person not much to be depended upon,
yet there does not seem to be any ground for doubting its
substantial correctness. The bishop of London, we are
told, also published a book of religious instruction, com-
piled, as he says in the preface, by himself and his chap-
lains. The book, however, is little more, in fact, than a
republication of the Institution of a Christen Man, adapted
for present use by means of certain modifications and
omissions, especially with regard to the pope. It might
seem that Bonner was offended, in his progress through
his diocese, with the texts of Scripture which yet continued
written upon the walls of many churches ; for soon after
his return home, he issued a mandate, enjoining the
erasure of these obnoxious inscriptions, and threatening
with excommunication such parochial officers as should
not blot them out immediately. The inscribers of scrip-
tural texts upon church walls are thus characterized by
him : " All which persons tend chiefly to this end, that
they might uphold the liberty of the flesh, and marriage
of priests, and destroy, as much as in them lay, the
reverend Sacrament of the altar, and might extinguish and
enervate holy days, fasting days, and other laudable disci-
pline of the Catholic Church, opening a window to all vices,
and utterly closing up the way unto virtue." The docu-
ment containing this charitable and veracious account of
such Christians as considered texts of Scripture a more
safe and profitable ornament of churches, than figures of
saints, or even of Christ, is addressed to the parish of
Hadham particularly, and to the diocese of London
generally. When the bishop was upon his visitation, he

562 BONNER.

came to Hadham somewhat before the time appointed.
Hence his ears, on approaching that place, were not
greeted by the sound of bells, nor was the rector on the
road to meet him. His irritation at these omissions was
increased, on reaching the village, by finding the church
door locked. At length he gained admission, and his
anger immediately found fresh fuel. Neither was a con-
secrated wafer hanging up, nor the rood-loft adorned in
the usual manner. " Knave, heretic," said he, with an
oath, to Dr Bricket, the rector, " I had hoped to see in
this mine own church, the best order : but here I find the
most disorder, to my heavy discomfort." Bricket endea-
voured to mollify him by humble apologies, representing
that his arrival before the time expected had caused the
omissions of which he complained ; that whatever he might
desire should be performed with all expedition ; and that
if he would adjourn to the parsonage-house, where an
entertainment awaited him, such arrangements should
be made as he might prescribe. Bonner, after listen-
ing awhile with undissembled rage, thus broke silence :
"Before God thou art a knave. Avaunt heretic." The
rector turned, and his diocesan, anxious, it might seem,
to give him another proof of his abhorrence, raised his
arm to strike, or thrust him. Unluckily, the blow took
full effect upon the ear of sir John Jocelyn, a gentleman
seated in the neighbourhood. The knight starting indig-
nantly, Feckenham, dean of St Paul's, thus attempted to
pacify him. " 0, master Jocelyn, you must bear with my
lord : for truly, his long imprisonment in the Marshalsea,
and the misusing of him there have altered him, and in
these passions he is not ruler of himself ; nor booteth it
any man to give him counsel until his heat be past : and
then, assure yourself, master Jocelyn, my lord will be
sorry for those abuses that he now cannot see in him-
self." Sir John good-humouredly replied; " So it seemeth,
master Feckenham, for now my lord is come forth of the
Marshalsea, he is fit to go into Bedlam." On quitting
the church of Hadham, Bonner angrily mounted his

BONNER. 563

horse, and rode on to Ware. Several of his attendants,
however, were persuaded by Dr Bricket to stay behind,
and partake of the handsome dinner which he had pro-
vided at the parsonage.

The preface to Bonner's articles of enquiry contains the
following oblique reference to his former patronage of
opinions now completely out of favour : " The said bishop
withal desireth all people to understand, that whatsoever
opinion, good or bad, hath been received of him, or what-
sover usage or custom hath been heretofore, his only
intent and purpose is to do his duty charitably." The
queries are in number thirty-seven, and some of them
relate to such general matters of discipline as fall at all
times under the cognizance of those who govern the
Church. Among those peculiarly suited to the time we
find the following ; Whether clergymen were married, or
taken for married, or had lost their wives by death, or
were openly separated from females with whom, notwith-
standing, they continued to cohabit, or defended clerical
marriages ? — Whether they duly performed the service on
all days appropriated to religious purposes ? — Whether
they were suspected of heresy, or favoured, or associated
with those so suspected ? — Whether any ecclesiastic lived
in the parish who absented himself from church? — Whether
any married priests, or persons naming themselves minis-
ters kept conventicles? — Whether individuals opposing
transubstantiation " or any other article of the Catholic
faith" were admitted to the Sacrament? — Whether English
had been used in the service since the queen's proclama-
tion to the contrary ? — Whether clergymen have exhorted
their parishioners " to be confessed and to receive the
benefit of absolution, according to the laudable custom of
this realm ?" — Whether " touching the solemnization of
the Sacrament of matrimony, and also of all other the
Sacraments of the Church, they have kept and observed
the old and laudable custom of the Church, without any
innovation or alteration in any of the same ?" — WThether
they have publicly announced in the time of service, or

5G4 BONNER.

Sundays, "all such holy days and fasting days, as of godly
usage and custom have heretofore laudably been accus-
tomed to be kept and observed in the week following, and
whether they have themselves observed the said days ? —
Whether they went abroad appareled as ecclesiastics,
with tonsures and shaven chins ? — Whether baptism, al-
ready lawfully performed, has been repeated ; or whether
any new forms have been followed in the administration
of that Sacrament ? — Whether once, at least, in every
quarter, the parishioners have been instructed, in the
vulgar tongue, in " the articles of the Catholic faith ; the
ten commandments of the old law, the two command-
ments of the gospel, or new law ; the seven works of
mercy ; the seven deadly sins, with their offspring, pro-
geny, and issue ; the seven principal virtues ; and the
seven sacraments of the Church ?" — Whether pregnant
women have been admonished to confess and receive the
Sacrament when near the time of delivery, and to have
water in readiness for christening tbeir offspring, if neces-
sity so require it ? — Whether any priests having been
ordained schismatically, " or being unlawfully and schis-
matically married, have officiated in the church." although
" not yet reconciled or admitted by the ordinary ?"

The Marian persecutions commenced in 1555 ; and
the bishop of London in February of that year went to
Oxford with Thirlby, bishop of Ely, to degrade arch-
bishop Cranmer, which office he executed with brutal in-
solence. As he was degrading him he said, " This is the
man who hath pulled down so many churches, and now is
come to be judged in a church. This is the man that
contemned the blessed Sacrament of the altar, and now is
come to be condemned before that blessed Sacrament hang-
ing over the altar. This is the man that like Lucifer sat
in the place of Christ upon an altar to judge others, and
now is come before an altar to be judged himself."

Whereunto the bishop interrupting him said that in that
he belied him, as he did indeed in many other things : for
that which he would now seem to charge him withal, was

BONNER 565

his own fault, if it was any, and none of his. " For the
thing you mean was in Paul's church" (said he) "where
I came to sit in commission ; and there was a scaffold
prepared for me and others, hy you and your officers ; and
whether there were any altar under it or not, I could not
perceive it, nor once suspected it ; wherefore you do wit-
tingly evil to charge me with it."

But Bonner went on still in his rhetorical repetition,
lying and railing against the archbishop, beginning every
sentence with, " This is the man, this is the man," till
at length there was never a man but was weary of the
unmannerly usage of him in that time and place ; inso-
much that the bishop of Ely aforesaid, divers times pulled
him by the sleeve to make an end, and said to him after
ward when they went to dinner, that he had broken pro-
mise with him ; for he had intreated him earnestly to use
Cranmer with reverence.

The bishop of London's conduct on this occasion was so
offensive, that brutal as were the humours to which he was
liable, it is only to be accounted for by his feelings of per-
sonal dislike to the man. ' In all the horrid proceedings
of a reign which has caused the queen to be called " the
bloody Mary," Bonner bore such a prominent part as to
have rendered his own name a bye word and reproach to
succeeding generations. For Mary some excuse is to be
made. In private she wras eminent for many good and
amiable qualities, and she seems to have been weak rather
than wicked. When we remember how good king George
the third permitted men to be hanged for forgery, and
how such executions were justified because, in a commer-
cial country, it was supposed trade would be ruined if
severity in that respect were relaxed ; we can understand
how many might be persuaded of the necessity of burning
heretics in order to prevent impiety. But this excuse is
not available in Bonner's case, for though " he proceeded
only according to the statutes then in force," the brutal
manner in which he conducted himself towards parties
vol. ii. 3 b

566 BONNER.

accused, is sufficient to prove the hardness of his heart
and his vindictive temper. He sometimes whipped his
prisoners with his own hands till he was tired with the
violence of the exercise ; and on one occasion he tore out
the beard of a weaver, and that he might give him a speci-
men of burning, held his hand to a candle till the sinews
and veins shrunk and burst. At one time he does un-
doubtedly appear to have become weary, and perhaps
ashamed of the persecution. In common with other pre-
lates, his energies in the hateful task relaxed. Upon him
lay its chief weight. Gardiner did little more than set it
on foot ; and after him, Bonner was the most prominent
of his order. The diocese of London, too, contained the
principal seat of population, together with an extensive
rural district, which, like the other eastern counties, had
been largely imbued with protestantism. Prisoners from
parts of England over which he had no jurisdiction,
were likewise often sent to the metropolis, so that a very
large proportion of those who were suspected of holding
heretical opinions came under his cognizance. Hence
he was called upon to vindicate Romanism by tire and
fagot, until some symptoms of reluctance were observed.
The infatuated government saw them with displeasure,
and by a circular, dated May 25th, 1555, rebuked the
prelacy for its abating zeal. Bonner immediately resum-
ed his former activity, and it continued until Mary's
death ended the persecution. In three years he is said to
have executed two hundred persons, besides those who by
his directions were scourged and otherwise tortured.

When Elizabeth succeeded to the throne, the bishop of
London accompanied the other prelates of our excellent
establishment to meet her majesty at Highgate, as she
came from Hatfield to London : all the bishops had the
honour of kissing her hand except Bonner. There is,
however, no reason to suppose that he would have been
deprived of his bishopric if he had taken the oath of allegi-
ance and supremacy. But it would have been hypocrisy

BONNER. 567

too barefaced even for him to have done this, and there-
fore, having remained for some time unmolested, he was,
on the 30th of May, 1559, brought before the privy coun-
cil, and for refusing to take the oaths, was again deprived
of his bishopric on the 29th of June following, and com-
mitted to the Marshalsea. His confinement was not very
strict, and was at first absolutely necessary, as an ebullition
of popular vengeance, which was far from unlikely, might
have sacrificed his life. But although secluded generally
from the public eye, he sometimes walked abroad, and
within his prison he lived in the free enjoyment of every
personal indulgence. His last appearance before the world
was caused by an injudicious tender to him of the oath of
supremacy by Horn, bishop of Winchester, in whose dio-
cese the Marshalsea lay. He refused it, and was indicted
in the court of King's Bench. He employed very able
counsel in his defence, who admitted his refusal of the
oath, but started various legal objections to Horn's epis-
copal character, which, if substantiated, would have dis-
qualified him for administering the oath. Parliament
interposed to prevent the evils which legal subtlety might
have caused from the agitation of this question. An act
was passed affirming the validity of episcopal consecrations
under the queen, and an indemnity was voted for such
refusals of the oath as had already taken place. Thus
Bonner escaped from further molestation. He died in
the Marshalsea, Sept. 5, 1569, and was buried, among
other prisoners, in St George's church-yard, Southwark.

Such is the history of Edmund Bonner, bishop of Lon-
don, who, with his contemporary Gardiner, has made
Romanism so odious in the eyes of Englishmen, that
Romanizers have never since been able to maintain a per-
manent footing in our church. Without personal religion,
lie defended the established system ; and had he lived at
a later age, he would probably have defended whatever
system he found established, while the evil passions of his
vindictive mind would have found vent in the anonymous

568 BORGIA.

correspondence of a newspaper, or in the conduct of
some so-called religious periodical. — Burnet. Fox. Collier.
Strype. Soames. Dod.

Bokgia, Cjesar. We hear men, in these days, institut-
ing a comparison between the church of England and the
church of Rome unfavourable to the former. Great things
are said in favour of medi-eval religion ; the discipline of
the Romish church is pronounced to be perfect ; and if an
English prelate falls into heresy, as is sometimes the case,
or subscribes to the circulation of works which deny the Lord
who bought us, we are immediately told that such things
could not be tolerated in Rome. The life of Caesar Borgia
will be read with profit by such persons. He was thoroughly
papal, being the son of Alexander VI. Roderic Borgia was
left guardian of Catherine Vanozza, having, it is said, in-
trigued with her mother, a Roman lady ; and by Catherine
Vanozza he had five children, of whom Caesar was the
second. Such was Roderic Borgia, a Spaniard, who ob-
tained high preferments in the church, until, to the delight
of his children, he was elevated to the popedom in 1492.
Caesar Borgia was at that time at the university of Pisa,
but hastened to Rome, where, to make his preferment
more acceptable, the pope, adding hypocrisy to his other
sins, declaimed against nepotism, and then preferred his
son to the archbishopric of Valencia. The pope had pre-
viously obtained from Ferdinand, the catholic king of
Arragon, the dukedom of Gandia in Valencia, for his eldest
son ; and in 1493 he raised Caesar to the cardinalate. The
king of Naples gave his daughter in marriage to Geoffrey,
the pope's youngest son, and promised the best benefices
as they fell, to Caesar, now cardinal Valentine. Thus
were the natural sons of the pope of Rome amply provided
for; and the mischief resulting from the constrained
celibacy of the clergy fully substantiated. Both for crimes
and for talents Caesar soon proved himself worthy of his
parentage.

BORGIA. 569

The ecclesiastical state had hitherto heen kept divided
by the factions of the Guelphs and Ghibellines, the
Orsini and the Colonnas. Like the other papal families,
Alexander and his son allied themselves with one of the
two, the Orsini or Guelph party. With the help of this
alliance, they soon succeeded in mastering all their ene-
mies. They drove the Sforzas from Pesaro, the Malatestas
from Rimini, and the Manfreddi from Faenza; they
seized those powerful and strongly fortified towns, and
presently formed them into a powerful lordship. No
sooner had they advanced so far, no sooner had they rid
themselves of their enemies, than they turned against
their friends. In this respect there was a marked differ-
ence between the Borgias and their predecessors, the latter
of whom had always been trammelled by the party to
which they had attached themselves. Caesar Borgia, with-
out hesitation or compunction, assailed his own con-
federates. The duke of Urbino, who had hitherto aided
in his aggrandizement, found himself suddenly, and with-
out the least warning, entangled in his toils, and with
difficulty escaped, a hunted fugitive in his own domains.
Upon this, Vitelli, Baglioni, and the heads of the Orsini
determined to show him at least that they were capable of
resisting him. He on his part said : " It is right and fit
to betray those who are the masters of all treachery ;"' he
decoyed them with deliberate, profoundly calculated
cruelty into the trap he had laid for them, and mercilessly
despatched them. After he had tamed both parties in
this fashion, he stepped into their places ; gathered their
adherents, the inferior nobility, round him, and took them
into his pay : he kept the territories he had seized in sub-
jection by force of severity and terror.

And thus Alexander saw his warmest wish fulfilled, the
barons of the land annihilated, and his house in train to
found a great hereditary principality in Italy. But he
soon had to feel practically of what the aroused pas^i'Tis
are capable. Caesar would not brook the participation of
3b -2

570 BORGIA.

his power with any relation or favourite. He had caused
his brother, who stood in his way, to be murdered and
thrown into the river. He had his brother-in-law assailed
on the very steps of the palace. His wife and his sister
nursed the wounded man ; the latter dressed his food
with her own hands for fear of poison : the pope had a
guard set on his own house to protect his son-in-law from
his son : Caesar mocked at all these precautions, saying,
" What has failed at noon may easily be done in the even-
ing." When the prince was now convalescent, Caesar burst
into his chamber, turned out the wife and the sister, called
in his bravo, and had his unfortuate brother-in-law strangled.
For as to his father, on whose life and station he looked
only as a means towards his own aggrandizement, he had
not a thought of treating him in other respects with the
least consideration. He slew Alexander's favourite Peroto
beneath the pontifical mantle, as the victim clung close to
his patron : the blood spurted in the pope's face.

For a time Caesar had Home and the ecclesiastical
states in his power. He was a man of surpassing beauty ;
so strong that in the bull-fight he would strike off the
bull's head at a single blow ; liberal-handed, not without
traits of magnanimity ; voluptuous, bloody : how did
Home tremble at his name ! Caesar needed gold and had
enemies — every night the corpses of murdered men were
found in the streets. Every man held his breath; for
there was none who might not fear that his own turn
would come next. Those whom violence could not reach,
were taken off by poison.

In August, 1497, Caesar Borgia crowned as legate a
latere specially commissioned, Frederic king of Naples,
and this was his last conspicuous appearance in an eccle-
siastical character, for in 1498, he made application to the
college of cardinals for leave to relinquish his ecclesiasti-
cal condition, declaring that he had entered it against his
will and by desire of the pope : condemning his papal
father, even if he exculpated himself. The submissive

BORGIA. 571

cardinals, having ascertained the pope's wish, gave their
consent, and Caesar now obtained from the French king
the dukedom of Valentinos, in Dauphigny, with the pro-
mise of having for his wife Alan d'Albret, sister to the
queen of Navarre.

After a career of reckless cupidity, his prospects were
blighted by the death of Alexander VI, in 1503. Among
the numerous documents given in the fifth volume of
Sanuto, occurs the following, which is transcribed from
Eanke's appendix.

This is the way pope Alexander VI came by his
death.

The cardinal datary xA.rian da Corneto having been
graciously informed by the pope that he intended to visit
him at his vineyard, with the duke of Valentinos, to sup
with him, and that his holiness would bring the supper
with him, the cardinal conceived that the invitation was
made with a view to put him to death by poison, so that
the duke might have his money and preferments ; it being
resolved on by the pope by all means to deprive him of
life in order to get possession of his property, as I have
said, which was great. Casting about how he might pre-
serve himself, he saw but one way of safety. He sent
betimes to desire the pope's carver, with whom he was
intimate, to come and speak with him, and on his arrival,
the two retired to a secret place, where were provided
10,000 gold ducats, which the said carver was prevailed
on by the cardinal to accept and keep for his sake. The
former accepted them after many words, and the car-
dinal offered him moreover all the rest of his means to
command, he being exceedingly rich, for he said he could
not keep the same except through the said carver's aid,
adding, " You know certes the pope's character, and I
I know that he has planned wdth the duke of Valentinos
to compass my death by poison at your hand," wherefore
he besought him to have pity on him, and spare his life.
Thereupon the carver declared to him the mode appointed

572 BORGIA.

for administering poison to him at supper, and yielded to
compassion, promising to save him. The manner was,
that he was to present after supper three boxes of lozenge
confectionary, one to the pope, one to the said cardinal,
and one to the duke, and in that of the cardinal was the
poison. So the cardinal directed the aforesaid carver how
he should serve them, and cause that the pope should eat
of the drugged box intended for the cardinal, and so
poison himself and die. Accordingly the pope being come
on the appointed day to supper, with the aforesaid duke,
the cardinal threw himself at his feet, embracing them
closely, and kissing them, intreating his holiness with
most affectionate words, saying that he would never rise
from that posture if his holiness did not grant him a
favour. The pontiff questioning him and urging him to
rise, the cardinal persisted in his suit, and pressed his
holiness to promise he would grant it. After much en-
treaty the pope, no little surprised at the stedfastness with
which the cardinal refused to rise, gave him his promise.
Thereupon the cardinal stood up and said, " Holy father,
it is not meet that when the master comes to the house of
the servant, the servant should eat as an equal with his
master :" the favour he begged, therefore, was the reason-
able and honourable one, that he the servant should wait
on his holiness at table, which favour the pope granted.
Supper having been served, when the time was come to
set on the confectionary, the poisoned confection was put
into the box by the carver according to the pope's original
order, and the cardinal being aware in which box there
was no poison, tasted the same, and set the poisoned one
before the pope, and his holiness, trusting to his carver,
and seeing the cardinal tasting, thought there was no
poison therein, and ate of it heartily, while the cardinal
ate of the other which the pope thought was poisoned,
and which was not so. In due time then, after the kind
of the poison, his holiness began to feel its effects, and in
suchwise died thereof: the cardinal, who was somewhat

BORROMEO. 573

alarmed, physicked and vomited himself, and took no
hurt, though he escaped not without difficulty.

With the life of his father the power of Caesar Borgia
ceased, and he owed his own preservation to the protec-
tion of the king of France. After a time he fled to Naples,
where Gonsalvo of Cordova arrested him, May 27, 1504,
and sent him into Spain, considering apparently his
talents for intrigue, knowledge of state secrets, and utter
want of principle, dangerous to the peace of Italy. The
Spanish court confined him two years in the castle of
Medina del Campo, whence he escaped by a window, and
took refuge with John, king of Navarre, his brother-in-law.
He then strove to regain his hold upon Lewis XII ; but
that prince would not receive him, confiscated his duchy
of Valentinos, and withdrew the pensions that he had
received from France. He was thus obliged for a subsist-
ence to remain at the court of Navarre. The king of that
little state was engaged in hostilities with Lewis of Beau-
mont, one of his subjects, and Caesar Borgia, serving as a
volunteer in his army, was killed under the walls of
Viana, March 12th, 1507.

It has been remarked that " even monstrosity has its
perfection." Many sons and nephews of the popes have
attempted similar things, but none ever carried them to
such a pitch. Ccesar was a virtuoso in crime.

The necessity of the reformation may be seen from this
narrative, which is here given on that account. And
whatever may be the faults of the church of England, we
may bless God that we have been separated from the
church of Rome, which declares itself to be unchangeable,
and in which such deeds were done. — Ranke. Roscoe.
Bower. Chaufipie.

Borromeo, Charles, was born in the Milanese, of an
illustrious family, on the 2nd of October, 1538, and
lived to become one of the brightest ornaments of the
modern church of Rome. Such was the corruption

574 BORROMEO.

of the Italian church at this period, that when he was
only twelve years old, his uncle, Julius Caesar Bor-
romeo, resigned to him the rich Benedictine abbey of
SS. Gralinian and Felin, in the territory of Arona. He
was educated first at Milan, and afterwards at the univer-
sity of Pavia. In this papal university we are informed
by Alban Butler that several snares were laid for his
virtue ; but he found protection in his God, whom he
sought in prayer and retirement, and through whose grace
he was carried through all difficulties. He took the de-
gree of L.L.D. towards the end of the year 1559, having a
little before received another abbey and priory on the
resignation of his uncle, the cardinal de Medicis. This
same uncle was at the close of the year just mentioned
chosen to succeed Paul IV as pope, and one of his first
acts was to make his nephew a cardinal although he was
only in his twenty- third year, and in the February follow-
ing he advanced the youth to the archbishopric of Milan.
He was not permitted by the pope, Pius IV, to reside in
his diocese, but he was detained at Rome, where he was
placed at the head of the consult, or council, and was
entrusted with the entire administration of the ecclesias-
tical state.

At school and at college his conduct had been such as
to merit the approbation of all who knew him. When
first, owing to the corruption of the Church, he received
an abbey, he reminded his father, that after deducting
the expenses necessary for his education, the property
belonged to the poor, and the poor were the only gainers
when he received other ecclesiastical preferments at col-
lege, as he did not increase his private expenses. But
he could not resist the contagion of Rome, and now he
availed himself of the many preferments heaped upon him
by his uncle to indulge his taste for magnificence. The
youthful ecclesiastic was legate of Bologna, Romaniola,
marquis of Ancona, and protector of Portugal, the Low
Countries, and the Roman Catholic Cantons of Switzer-

BORROMEO. 575

land, and of the orders of St Francis, the Carmelites, the
knights of Malta, and others. He gathered around him
all who were distinguished for their rank or learning.
His house was magnificently furnished ; his equipages
were among the most splendid in Rome ; his table was
sumptuously served. But in the midst of the dissipations
of the profligate court of Rome he sighed for better things.
He instituted in the Vatican an academy, in the confer-
ences of which he learned to overcome his natural bash-
fulness, to correct an impediment of speech, and to perfect
his style. He studied deeply the philosophical works of
Cicero. But he sought in vain to silence the upbraidings
of his conscience by the charms of literature. He had in
a measure provided for the spiritual wants of his neg-
lected diocese by appointing under him a suffragan
bishop, but still he felt that he had incurred responsibi-
lities which he did not fulfil. To Bartholemew de Mar-
tyribus, who happened to be at Rome, he opened his
grief: remarking, "For this long time I have begged of
God, with all the earnestness I am able, to enlighten me
with regard to the state in which I live. You see my
condition. You know what it is to be a pope's nephew,
and a nephew most tenderly beloved by him : nor are you
ignorant what it is to live in the court of Rome. The
dangers which encompass me are infinite. I see a great
number ; and there are a great many more which I do
not discern. What then ought I to do, young as I am,
and without experience ; and having no part or ingredient
of virtue, but, through the Divine grace, an earnest desire
of obtaining it '?"' The cardinal proceeded to explain his
difficulties and fears ; and then added : "God has inspired
me with a vehement ardour for penance, and an earnest
desire to prefer His fear and my salvation to all things;
and I have some thoughts of breaking my bonds, and
retiring into some monastery, there to live, as if there were
only God and myself in the world."' His director, after a
short pause, cleared all his doubts, assuring him, by solid

576 BORROMEO.

reasons, that he ought not to quit his hold of the helm
which God put into his hands, for the necessary and most
important service of the universal Church, his uncle being
very old : but that he ought to contrive means to attend
his own church, as soon as God should open him a way to
it. Borromeo rising up, embraced him, and said, God
had sent him thither for his sake, and that his words had
removed a heavy weight from his heart ; and he begged
that God, who by His grace had shewn him the station in
which it was His will that he should labour in His ser-
vice, would vouchsafe to support him in it by His divine
grace.

On the death of his elder brother, in 1562, the worldlj--
minded pope pressed him to resign his ecclesiastical dig-
nities, and as he had succeeded to the family estates to
marry ; but to this arrangement Borromeo refused to con-
sent. He availed himself of his increased means to found
the college of the Borromeos at Pavia.

The Romish council of Trent had been convened by
Paul III in the year 1545, and, by repeated prorogations,
was continued throughout the reigns of his successors,
Julius III, Marcellus II, and Paul IV. It was brought
to a conclusion by Pius IV in 1563. No sooner was the
council, through the zeal and prudence of Borromeo,
brought to a conclusion, than he began strenuously to
enforce its decrees, and to urge his uncle to carry out its
principles. Pius IV published his creed in 1564, and the
creed of pope Pius has since become the symbol of
Romanism ; the presumptuous prelate having ventured to
add articles to the Christian faith. The council had
recommended a revision of the breviary and missal, and
likewise the composition of a catechism. To complete the
last work, known indifferently as the Catechismus Tri-
deiiti nits, Catechismus Bomanus, and Catechismus ad Paro-
chos, Borromeo associated with himself Francis Foreiro, a
Portuguese Dominican, and Giles Foscariri, bishop of
Modena. This catechism was published in 1566.

BORROMEO. "577

Borroineo earned out the suggestions of the council in
his own person ; he retrenched his expenses, dismissed
many of his servants, and neither wore silk himself, nor
permitted any of his family to do so : he banished all
superfluities from his house, fasted once a week on bread
and water, and made every day two meditations of an
hour. He wrote, every week, long and affectionate letters
to his grand vicar at Milan, on subjects relating to the
government of his diocese. At last he obtained the pope's
permission to do his duty : he was permitted to hold a
council at Milan and to make a visitation. Before his
departure his fond uncle created him legate a latere,
through all Italy. He left Rome in September 15(35, and
was engaged in the duties of his office, when he received
news that the pope was dangerously ill. He therefore
hastily returned to Rome, and knowing the worldly-
mindedness of the pope, and what his past life had been,
he entered his chamber and said to him : " Most holy
father, all your desires and thoughts ought to be turned
towards heaven. Behold Jesus Christ crucified, who is
the only foundation of our hope . He is our mediator and
advocate : the victim and sacrifice for our sins. He is
goodness and patience itself : His mercy is moved by the
tears of sinners, and He never refuses pardon and grace to
those who ask it with a truly contrite and humble heart."
He then conjured the pope to grant him one favour, as
the greatest he had ever received from him. The pope
said, any thing in his power should be granted him.
" The favour which I most earnestly beg, said Borromeo,
is, that as you have but a very short time to live, you lay
aside all worldly business and thoughts, and employ your
strength and all your powers, in thinking on your salva-
tion, and in preparing yourself to the best of your power
for your last passage.'' The pope received this tender
advice with great comfort, and the cardinal gave strict
orders that no one should speak to the pope upon any
other subject. He continued by his uncle's bed-side to
vol. 11. 3 c

578 BORROMEO.

his last breath, never ceasing to dispose him for death by
all the pious practices and sentiments which his charity
could suggest ; and administering himself the viaticum
and extreme unction.

On his uncles death he returned to his diocese, where
his austerities to himself became most severe, and his
charities to others unbounded. He reproved the bishops
of his province for their love of money ; and resigning
his sinecures and selling his plate, he placed the whole
management of his revenues in commission, that they
might be expended in supporting hospitals for the poor,
and schools for the instruction of the people. In 1571,
when the plague broke out at Milan, he hastened from
Rome, that, while others fled from the infected city, he
might be at the post of duty : he sold the furniture of his
house to meet the necessities of the suffering people, and
exerted himself night and day to minister to their spiritual
wants. That his heroic charity was met with ingratitude
will not excite surprise. From some of the clergy even,
who ought to have supported him, he met with opposition,
as they claimed to be free from his jurisdiction, and he
was accused of tyranny for trying to exercise authority over
them. But he remained calm and gentle : the most
atrocious injuries and the blackest actions of ingratitude
never discomposed his mind ; and defamatory libels pub-
lished against him he burnt without reading. News-
papers he would not read, saying that a bishop ought to
employ his mind and heart in meditating on the things
of God, which that man cannot do who fills his mind with
the vain curiosities of the world. The most exemplary of
contemporary prelates, he died on the 4th of November,
1584, worn out by austerities and pious labours, in his
47th year.

The greatest blot on his character is that which
Romish historians mention to his credit, that he had
an extraordinary devotion to the blessed Virgin, and a
veneration for relics. But this is the fault of that

BOSQUET. 579

portion of the Church with which he was connected, the
church of Rome being guilty of idolatry to the Virgin and
other saints.

His works, which are chiefly doctrinal and practical,
were published at Milan, with notes, in 1747, in five vols,
folio. His instructions to confessors were printed as a
manual for French ecclesiastics, in 1657, by the general
assembly of the clergy of France.

It was a rule with him to make a spiritual retreat
twice every year, in each of which he made a general
confession. The first retreat and general confession was
made under Alexander Saulo, afterwards bishop of
Pavia, in 1568, and this he ever afterwards called his
conversion to God ; so great was the spiritual profit he
derived from it. — Butler. Touron abridged. Moreri. Fre-
heri Theatrum.

Borromeo, Frederic, cousin-german of the preceding,
and educated under his direction, by whom he was placed
in his newly founded college at Pavia ; like him, too, a
cardinal and archbishop of Milan. He died in 1632,
aged sixty-eight, leaving, Meditamenta Litteraria, pub-
lished in 1633, and some religious works. Literature,
however, is chiefly indebted to him as the founder of the
famous Ambrosian library, at Milan, in which were placed
nearly 10,000 MSS. many of them oriental. — Moreri.
Saaii Onomasticon. Freheri Theatrum.

Bosquet, was born at Narbonne, May 28th, 1605, and
was educated in the college of Foix in Toulouse. He was
originally a lawyer. Before he entered into orders, he
had held very honourable offices ; he had been intend ant
of Guienne and Languedoc, solicitor-general to the parlia-
ment of Normandy, and was counsellor of state in ordinary,
when he was appointed bishop of Lodeve in 1648, upon
the resignation of John de Plantavit, his particular friend,
but he did not take possession of the see till January 1650,

580 BOSSUET.

About the beginning of the pontificate of Alexander the
Vllth he went to Rome, being a deputy on the part of the
king and clergy of France on the affair of the five proposi-
tions. Here the pope shewed particular attention to him
on many occasions. Bosquet, upon his return to France,
was translated to the bishopric of Montpellier. During
the sitting of the clergy of France at St Germains, in 1675,
he petitioned the king to give him his nephew, the abbe
de Pradel, as coadjutor in his see, which his majesty
granted. From this time he lived retired in his diocese
till his death, which happened on the 24th of June, 1676.
He left the following works : 1. Pontificorum Romanorum,
qui e Gallia oriundi, in ea sederunt, historia ab anno 1315
ad anno 1394. Paris, 1632. 2. Synopsis legum Mi-
chaelis Belli. Paris, 1632. 3. Ecclesise Gallicame histor.
&c. Paris, 1636. 4. La vie de S. Fulcram. 5. Discours
sur la regule danc l'assemblie du clerge de France, anno
1655. 6. Specimen Iconis historicae cardinalis Mazarini.
There are likewise some pieces of his in manuscript. —
Usserius in Pre/. Brit. Eccles. Antiq. Journal de Savans,
Moreri.

Bossuet, James Benigne, was born at Dijon, on the
27th of September, 1627. While he was a mere boy he
read the Scriptures with intense delight, a sacred pleasure
which only increased with his years. They became, in-
deed, so familiar to him, that the verse, the line, the word
which he washed to remember, was ever present to his
memory ; and it was generally supposed by his friends, that
he knew the whole contents of the sacred volume by heart.

He was placed under the care of his uncle by whom he
was sent to the college of Jesuits at Dijon ; from whence
in due course he wras removed to Paris, and entered there
in the college of Navarre. In 1652 he took his doctor's
degree, and soon after received the order of priesthood.
He was afterwards made a canon of Metz, and was succes-
sively raised to the rank of archdeacon and dean of that

BOSSUET. 581

church. His character as a scholar and a divine was at
this time fully established, and he was soon employed
by his bishop to refute a catechism by Paul Ferry, a pro-
testant minister. He so conducted this controversy as to
win the respect of his opponents, as well as the applause
of his friends, and he attracted the attention of the court,
especially of the queen mother, Ann of Austria. Under
the auspices of the French court he laboured successfully
in converting the protestants in the diocese of Metz to the
established Church. He had frequently occasion to visit
Paris, where, by the force of his preaching, he attracted
notice, and found a devoted follower in the queen mother,
by whose means he was appointed to preach before the
king in the Advent of 1661, and in the following Lent.
He so conciliated the royal favour, that, in 1669, the king
nominated Bossuet to the bishopric of Condom. He was
duly consecrated in 1670, but within twelve months he
resigned his see, having been appointed preceptor to the
dauphin. Upon his resignation the king gave him the
priory of Plassis Grimoux, which provided him with an
income of £300 a year, and though he afterwards received
the abbey of St Lucian de Beauvais, he modelled his
establishment according to the income he first received,
and devoted the surplus to charitable purposes. For the
instruction of his royal pupil, he acquired such a share of
anatomical knowledge, as to be able to compose a short
course of anatomy, which has been favourably spoken of
by medical men. But the principal work of Bossuet, which
we owe to his education of the dauphin, is his celebrated
Introduction to Universal History ; Discours sur l'Histoire
Universelle, which was first published in 1681. Of this
work there are three divisions ; the first, which is chrono-
logical, is based on the labours of our own archbishop
Usher ; in the second part he displays, in a strain of
sublime eloquence, the truths and proofs of the Christian
religion, in reference to which Voltaire himself was com-
pelled to declare that France abounded with elegant writers,
3 c -2

BOSSUET.

but that Bossuet alone was eloquent; the third part con-
tains a noble and philosophical view of the causes of the
rise and decline of empires.

The first of Bossuet's controversial works has been
already alluded to, his refutation of Ferry's Catechism
in 1655. His " Exposition of the doctrine of the Roman
Catholic Church," Exposition de l'Eglise Catholique sur
les Matieres de Contro verse, appeared in 1671. It
was composed originally for the private use of the
marquis de Daugeau, and having been shewn to the
marechal de Turenne, the most eminent protestant in
France, induced him to become a member of the na-
tional church. This work established the reputation of
Bossuet as one of the most skilful controversialists of
that or perhaps of any age. But when we speak of his
skill, we are not to be understood as admitting his can-
dour, for his skill is often shewn in evading questions
which he ought to answer, as is shewn by archbishop
Wake in the introduction to his Exposition of the doc-
trine of the church of England. Taking his stand upon
the doctrinal definitions of the council of Trent, he in
fact leaves unguarded the mass of superstitions which
are more than tacitly encouraged in every church where
Romanism prevails. In his first draught of the work, he
spoke of the invocation of saints as merely commended by
the council of Trent, without being put on the footing of
necessity or positive commandment, and he said of the
mass that it might be reasonably called a Sacrifice ; thus
leaving his reader to suppose that it was hardly more of a
sacrifice than the sacrifice of prayer and praise. Before
the work was published it was shewn to various friends of
the writer, and he was induced to become less liberal in
his statements, though the work even now contains state-
ments which must be staggering to decided Romanists, so
much so, that it was long before the book obtained any
sanction from Rome. The university of Louvaine pro-
nounced it to be scandalous and pernicious. Clement X,

BOSSUET. 583

who was pope at the time of its publication, positively re-
fused to give his approbation to it ; and although Innocent
XI commended it in a brief dated January 4, 1679, he
did so with caution. It is rather intended to blind the
eyes of protestants favourably disposed to Rome, than to
be a fair statement of Romish doctrine ; it is a favourite
book with Romish controversialists in a protestant country,
but is viewed with suspicion in countries where Romanism
is established. But if he thus published a work, full of
concessions, and approaching to liberalism, to make easy
to protestants their path to Rome, he published another
work to disgust Romanists with protestantism, and to con-
vince wavering Roman catholics that out of the church of
Rome they could find no resting place, but must be always
in a state of uncertainty and insecurity. This work is his
"Variations of the Protestant Churches," Histoire des
Variations des Eglises Protestantes, which was first pub-
lished in 1688. It is perhaps the most powerful attack
that has been made on protestantism ; and few things are
more splendid in polemical writing than his exposure of
the weak points of Lutheranism in the first six books. In
the sixth book he exposes the conduct of Luther, Melanc-
thon, and other Lutheran divines in sanctioning bigamy,
by permitting the marriage of landgrave of the Hesse, with
a second wife during the lifetime of his first wife. His
seventh, eighth, and tenth books, are devoted to the con-
sideration of the reformation of the English church ; and
here he fails, because he, with great want of candour, will
not remark the difference between reforming a Catholic
church, by national synods, and the formation of an en-
tirely new society. But this part of his work is useful in
pointing out what, in the estimation of Romanists, are our
weak points. His history of the French calvinists, or
Huguenots, — of the Albigenses, and of the disputes be-
tween Arminius and Gomar, is very interesting and most
ably done, due allowance being made for the bias of the
author's mind. Bossuet's success in bringing over to the
Gallican church some of the most distinguished of the

584 BOSSUET.

French protestants, naturally directed his mind to these
subjects. Among his converts was mademoiselle de Duras,
a niece of Turenne : and her name is singled out because
it was at her request, and in the presence of several
Huguenots, that Bossuet held his famous conference with
John Claude, who represented the French protestants.
The conference occurred in 1678, and as the dispute
turned entirely on Church authority, Bossuet certainly
had by far the best of the argument, and the lady yielding
to her wishes became a Gallican.

In his education of the dauphin, Bossuet acquitted
himself so much to the satisfaction of Louis XIV, that he
was appointed, in 1680, first almoner to the dauphiness,
and in 1681 he became bishop of Meaux. Zealous as he
was against protestantism, and prepared to maintain the
doctrinal definitions of the council of Trent; he was equally
prepared to maintain the liberties of the Gallican church
from the aggressions of the papal court.

At the time of Bossuet's appointment to the see of
Meaux, there was a considerable degree of irritation
between Lewis XIV and the see of Rome. One of the
principal points in contest between them respected the
regale, or a right, claimed by the kings of France, to the
revenues of every vacant see within their dominions, and
to collate to the simple benefices within its jurisdiction.
This was always viewed with jealousy, not only by the
pope and foreign divines, but by the general body of the
church of France ; and its warmest advocates treated it,
rather as a tolerated, than an acknowledged claim. As
such, it was admitted by the second council of Lyons ;
but, with an express limitation of it to the territories,
within which it was then actually exercised, and a denun-
ciation of excommunication of those, who carried it beyond
them. It was generally considered, that the provinces,
bordering on the Alps and Pyrenees were not subject to
it : and, on this ground, when Lewis the XlVth attempted
to exercise it, during the vacancy of the see of Pamiers, the
chapter resisted it ; and, after the bishop elect took pos-

BOSSUET. 585

session of his see, he pronounced, in his episcopal court,
a sentence in favour of the proceeding of his chapter. An
appeal from that sentence was carried to the court of his
metropolitan, the archbishop of Xarbonne. There, the
sentence of the bishop was reversed ; but the archbishop's
own sentence was reversed at Rome. Upon this, the king
issued an edict, by which he asserted his prerogative : the
edict was immediately registered by the parliament, and
acquiesced in by the assembly of the French clergy, which
was then sitting at Paris.

It was foreseen by them, that their conduct would give
great offence to the pope, and they feared that he would
proceed to extreme measures against them. To ward
them off, the archbishop of Rheims addressed to the pope
a letter, in the names of himself and the other prelates, of
whom the assembly was composed ; in which, without
pretending absolutely to justify their conduct, he said every
thing which was likely to extenuate it, in the eyes of the
pontiff, and to sooth his displeasure. — It was the composi-
tion of Bossuet, and written with equal force and address.
The great services rendered by the king to religion, the
magnitude of his power, and the possible consequences of
incurring his displeasure, are held out in a strong point
of view : but in terms, which would rather lead the pope
to feel them, from his own conclusions, than by any direct
expression of them in the letter. The real encroachment
on the rights of the Church was said to be small, and some
advantages were alleged to result from the modifications,
which the edict made in the exercise of the right. Several
examples were cited of popes, and other eminent per-
sonages, who had waived their clearest rights, rather than
provoke dangerous discussion.

At this time pope Innocent the Xllth filled the papal
chair. He was born in the dominions of Austria ; — father
d'Avrigni describes him as a person warmly attached, in
politics, to the interests of that house, and ill-disposed
towards France : easily carried away by first impressions ;
inflexible in what he thought his duty, and had once

586 BOSSUET.

resolved upon ; lofty in his carriage ; of great austerity,
both in principles and conduct, and of repulsive manners.
A pope of such a character was likely to be much offended
by the king's extension of the regale, and the acqui-
escence in it on the part of the prelates. Immediately on
the receipt of their letter, the pope answered it by a very
angry brief, in which he reproached them in severe terms,
for their pusillanimity ; annulled their proceedings ; and
required them to return to their duty, without delay ;
and, in hopes of it, gave them his benediction.

The contents and style of the brief had been foreseen
by the prelates. The public attention was engaged by the
dispute ; and the worst consequences were feared, as it
was thought improbable, that either the pontiff or the
monarch would recede from his pretensions.

Without expecting the answer of the pope, the prelates
petitioned the king to call a national council, or a general
assembly of the clergy of France. The king preferred the
latter, and it was opened on the 9th of November, in the
year 1682, by a solemn high mass, at which Bossuet
pronounced an eloquent sermon. He was afterwards
commissioned to prepare the four articles, which the
assembly promulgated as the Gallican creed on the
limitations of papal authority. In the first article it was
decided that the papal power extended not to things civil
and temporal ; in the second, the authority of councils is
declared to be superior to that of the pope, according to
what has been defined on the subject by the council of
Constance ; in the third it was declared that the rules,
customs, and usages received by the kingdom and churches
of France, should be inviolably observed : in the fourth it
is asserted that the decisions of the pope in questions of
faith are not irreformable, unless they have the consent of
the Church.

These articles passed unanimously, and the monarch
was desired to publish them throughout his kingdom. He
immediately issued an edict, by which, he ordered the
declaration to be registered by all the parliaments, baili-

BOSSUET. 587

wicks, stewarties, universities and faculties of divinity and
canon law, within his dominions. The edict forbad all
persons, secular or regular, to write or teach any thing
contrary to the declaration ; and that no person should be
appointed professor of theology, who did not previously
engage to teach no other doctrine.

The declaration met with little opposition in France.

Its reception in Italy was very different, and it would
consume more space than we can afford, to give even an
outline of the contests to which it gave rise, between the
Gallicans on the one side, and the ultra-montanes on the
other. Bossuet wrote a defence of his conduct on this
occasion in Latin; but though composed in the year 1683
and 1684, it was not published until 1730, when it ap-
peared at Luxemburg, in two volumes, 4to, with this title,
Defensio Declarationis celeberrimse quam de Potestate
Ecclesiastica sanxit clems Gallicanus, 19 Martii, 1682 ab
illus. ac rev. Jacobo Benigno Bossuet, Meldensi Episcopo,
ex speciali jussu Ludovici Magni scripta. It is remark-
able that this work, by one of the most distinguished pole-
mics on the side of Romanism, was put into the Roman
index of prohibited books.

For an account of Bossuet's controversy with the mys-
tics, the reader is referred to the Life of Fenelon. By
Fenelon Madame Guyon's theory of a religious life within
the breasts of individuals, was defended in his celebrated
Explication des Maximes des Saints sur l'interieure : and
not only was he opposed by Bossuet, but the bishop of
Meaux never ceased from importunities to Louis XIV, and
Innocent XII, until, in 1699, Fenelon 's book was branded
at Rome as erroneous. The conduct of Bossuet in this
controversy was discreditable in the extreme. — See the Life
of Fenelon,

He was engaged in other controversies, as with Simon,
the father of modern biblical criticism, in whose writ-
ings he perceived a socinian tendency ; with Launoy ;
and with one who is often referred to in these pages, the
learned, candid, and unprejudiced Dupin. Against his

588 BOSSUET.

Bibliotheque des Peres, Bossuet presented a memorial,
which produced the seizure of the whole impression of the
work. — See Life of Dupin.

The correspondence between Bossuet and Leibnitz, on
the re-union of the Lutheran protestants with the Roman
Catholic church, is of a character too interesting Dot to be
noticed.

It appears that, towards the close of the 17th century,
the emperor Leopold, and several sovereign princes in
Germany, conceived a project of re-uniting the Roman
catholic and Lutheran churches. The duke of Brunswick,
who had recently embraced the Roman catholic religion,
and published his " Fifty Reasons" for his conversion,
(once a popular work of controversy), and the duke of
Hanover, the father of the first prince of the illustrious
house, which now fills the throne of Englaud, were the
original promoters of the attempt. It was generally ap-
proved ; and the mention of it at the diet of the empire
was favourably received. Some communications upon it
took place, between the emperor and the ducal princes :
and, with the knowledge of them all, several conferences
were held, upon the subject, between certain distinguished
Roman catholic and protestant divines. In these, the
bishop of Neustadt, and Molanus, the abbot of Lokkum,
took the lead. The first had been consecrated bishop of
Tina in Bosnia, then under the dominion of the Turks,
with ordinary jurisdiction over some parts of the Turkish
territories. His conduct had recommended him to
Innocent XI, and that pope had directed him to visit the
protestant states in Germany, and inform him of their
actual dispositions, in respect to the church of Rome.
In consequence of this mission, he became known to the
emperor, who appointed him to the see of Neustadt, in
the neighbourhood of Vienna. Molanus was director of
the protestant churches and consistories of Hanover.
Both were admirably calculated for the office intended for
them on this occasion : each enjoyed the confidence of
his own party, and was esteemed by the other : each was

BOSSUET. 589

profoundly versed in the matters in dispute : each pos-
sessed good sense, moderation, and conciliating manDers,
and each had the success of the business at heart, and
a fixed purpose, that nothing, but a real difference on
some essential article of doctrine, should frustrate the
project.

The effect of the first conferences were so promising,
that the emperor and the two princes resolved that they
should be conducted in a manner more regular, and more
likely to bring the object of them to a conclusion. With
this view, the business was formally intrusted, by both the
princes, to Molanus alone ; and the emperor published a
rescript, dated the *20th March, 1691, by which he gave
the bishop of Xeustadt full authority to treat on all
matters of religion, with the states, communities, and
individuals of the empire ; reserving to the ecclesiastical
and imperial powers, their right to confirm the acts of the
bishop, as they should judge advisable. Unde? these aus-
picious circumstances, the conference between the bishop
of Xeustadt and Molanus began.

But, before the events which we have mentioned, took
place, a correspondence, on the subject of a general re-
union between Roman catholics and protestants, had been
carried on for some time, between Pelisson and Leibnitz.
The former held a considerable rank among the French
writers, who adorned the reign of Lewis the XlVth ;
the latter was eminently distinguished in the literary
world. In the exact sciences he was inferior to Xewton
alone ; in metaphysics he had no superior ; in general
learning he had scarcely a rival.

His correspondence with Pelisson came to the know-
ledge of Louisa, princess palatine and abbess of Maubrus-
son. She was a daughter of the elector and count palatine
of the Rhine, and sister of the duchess of Hanover. She
had in early life been converted to Romanism, and had
the conversion of her sister very much at heart. With
this view, she. sent to her the correspondence between

vol. ii. 3d

590 BOSSUET.

Leibnitz and Pelisson, and received from her an account
of what was passing between the bishop of Neustadt and
Molanus. Both the ladies were anxious to promote the
measure, and that Bossuet should take in it the leading
part on the side of the Romanists. This was mentioned
to Lewis the XlVth, and had his approbation. The
emperor and both the princes, by all of whom Bossuet was
personally esteemed, equally approved of it ; and it was
finally settled that Bossuet and Leibnitz should be joined
to the bishop of Neustadt and Molanus, and that the cor-
respondence with Bossuet should pass through the hands
of madame de Brinon, who acted as secretary to the
abbess of Maubrusson, and is celebrated, by the writers of
the times, for her wit and dexterity in business. Thus
the matter assumed a still more regular form, and much
was expected from the acknowledged talents, learning,
and moderation of the actors in it, and their patrons.

The conferences between the bishop of Neustadt and
Molanus continued for seven months, and ended in their
agreeing on twelve articles, to serve for the basis of the
discussion, on the terms of the re-union.

The bishop of Neustadt communicated these articles to
Bossuet. He seems to have approved of them generally,
but to have thought that some alteration in them was
advisable. This being mentioned to Molanus, he pub-
lished his Cogitationes Privatse, a profound and conciliat-
ing dissertation. Without entering into any discussion,
on the points in dispute between the churches, he
suggested in it a kind of truce, during which there
should be ecclesiastical communion between them : the
Lutherans were to acknowledge the pope, as the first of
bishops in order and dignity : the church of Rome was to
receive the Lutherans, as her children, without exacting
from them any retractation of their alleged errors, or any
renunciation of the articles in their creed, condemned by
the council of Trent. The anathemas of that council
were to be suspended, and a general council was to be

BOSSUET. 591

convened, in which the protestants were to have a deli-
berative voice : the sentence of that council was to be
definitive, and, in the mean time, the members of each
party were to treat the members of the other as brethren,
whose errors, however great they might appear, were to be
tolerated from motives of peace, and in consideration of
their engagements to abandon them, if the council should
pronounce against them. To shew the probability of a
final accommodation, Molanus notices in his dissertation
several points in which one party imputed to the other
errors not justly chargeable on them ; several in which
they disputed merely for want of rightly understanding
each other ; and several in which the dispute was of words
only.

It appears that the bishop of Neustadt communicated
this dissertation to Bossuet, and that Bossuet was de-
lighted with the good sense, candour, and true spirit of
conciliation which it displayed. He frequently, and
always in terms of the highest praise, mentions its author
in his letters. His own language was equally moderate
and conciliating. " The council of Trent," he says in one
of his letters, " is our stay ; — but we shall not use it to
prejudice the cause. This would be to take for granted
what is in dispute between us. We shall deal more fairly
with our opponents. We shall make the council serve for
a statement and explanation of our doctrines. Thus we
shall come to an explanation on those points, in which
either of us imputes to the other what he does not believe,
and in wThich we dispute only because we misconceive
each other. This may lead us far ; for the abbot of Lok-
kum has actually conciliated the points so essential, of
Justification and the Eucharist : nothing is wanting to
him, on that side, but that he should be avowed. Why
should we not hope to conclude, in the same manner, dis-
putes less difficult and of less importance ?"

With these rational and conciliatory dispositions, Bos-
suet and Molanus proceeded. But. after this stage of the

59-2 BOSSUET.

business, Molanus disappears, and Leibnitz comes on the
scene.

A letter, written by Bossuet to M. de Brinon, having
been communicated by her to Leibnitz, opened the corres-
pondence between him and Bossuet. In that letter,
Bossuet declared explicitly, that the church of Rome was
ready to make concessions on points of discipline, and to
explain doctrines, but would make no concession in re-
spect to denned articles of faith ; and, in particular, would
make no such concession in respect to any, which had
been defined by the council of Trent. Leibnitz's letter
to M. de Brinon, in answer to this communication, is
very important. He expresses himself in these terms :
" The bishop of Meaux says, 1st, That the project de-
livered to the bishop of Neustadt does not appear to him
quite sufficient ; 2ndly, That it is nevertheless very use-
ful, as every thing must have its beginning ; 3dly, That
Rome will never relax from any point of doctrine, defined
by the Church, and cannot capitulate in respect to any
such article ; 4thly, That the doctrine, defined in the
council of Trent, is received in and out of France by all
Roman catholics : 5thly, That satisfaction may be given
to protestants, in respect to certain points of discipline, or
in the way of explanation, and that this had been already
done in an useful manner, in some points, mentioned in
the project of the bishop of Xeustadt. These are the
material propositions in the letter of the bishop of Meaux,
and I believe all these propositions true. Neither the
bishop of Xeustadt, nor those who negociated with them,
make any opposition to them. There is nothing in them
which is not conformable to the sentiments of those
persons. The third of them in particular, which might
be thought an obstacle to these projects of accommodation,
could not be unknown to them ; one may even say, that
they built on it."

It seems difficult to deny, that, in this stage of the
business, much had been gained to the cause of re-union.

BOSSUET. 503

The parties were come to a complete understanding on
the important articles of justification and the eucharist ;
and it was admitted both by Leibnitz and Molanus, that,
in their view of the matter, an accommodation might be
effected between the Roman catholic and Lutheran
churches, though the former retained all her denned
doctrines, and, in particular, all her doctrines denned by
the council of Trent. The question then was, what should
be done in respect to the remaining articles in difference
between the churches. It is to be wished that it had been
left to Bossuet and Molanus to settle them, in the way of
amicable explanation, in which, they had settled the two
important articles, which we have mentioned. It is
evident, from the passages which we have cited from
Bossuet, that it was his wish that the business should
proceed on that plan, and that he had hopes of its
success. Unfortunately, the business took another direc-
tion : Leibnitz proclaimed, that, after every possible expla-
nation should be given, the Lutheran church would still
retain some articles contrary to the denned doctrines of
the church of Rome, and anathematized by the council of
Trent. To remove the final effect of this objection,
Leibnitz held out Molanus's first project, that the Lu-
therans should express a general acquiescence in the
authority of the Church, and promise obedience to the
decisions of a general council, to be called for the purpose
of pronouncing on these points ; and that, in consequence
of these advances on their part, the anathemas of the
council of Trent should be suspended, and the Lutherans
received, provisionally, within the pale of the catholic
Church. To bring over Bossuet to this plan, he exerted
great eloquence, and displayed no common learning.

But the eloquence and learning of Leibnitz were with-
out effect. In language equally temperate and firm,
Bossuet adhered to his text, that, in matters of discipline,
or any other matter, distinct from faith, the church of
Rome would shew the utmost indulgence to the Lutherans ;
3d 2

594 BOSSUET.

but that, on articles of faith, and especially on those pro-
pounded by the council of Trent, there could be no com-
promise. But this he confined to articles of faith alone ;
and, even on articles of faith, he wished to consult the
feelings of protestants, as much as possible. He offered
them every fair explanation of the tenets of the council ;
he required from them no retractation of their own
tenets : "Molanus," he says, " will not allow retractation
to be mentioned. It may be dispensed with ; it will be
sufficient that the parties acknowledge the truth, by way
of declaration or explanation. To this, the symbolical
books give a clear opening, as appears by the passages
which have been produced from them, and will appear,
by other passages, which may be produced from them."

If Bossuet was thus considerate in what regarded faith,
it will easily be supposed, how indulgent his sentiments
were, in regard to all that merely regarded discipline,
A complete confession of faith being once obtained from
the Lutherans, he was willing to allow them, if they
required it, communion under both kinds ; — that their
bishops should retain their sees ; — and that, where there
was no bishop, and the whole body of the people was pro-
testant, under the care of a superintendant, the superin-
tendant should be consecrated their bishop : — that, where
there was a catholic bishop, and a considerable part of the
diocese was Lutheran, the superintendant should be con-
secrated priest, and invested with rank and office ; — that
the Lutheran ministers should be consecrated priests ;
that provision should be made for their support ; — that
such of their bishops and ministers as were married might
retain their wives ; — and that the consciences of those, who
held possessions of the church, should be quieted, except
in respect to hospitals, whose possessions, he thought,
could not conscientiously be withheld from the poor ob-
jects of their foundations ; and that every other arrange-
ment should be made, by the Church and state, which
would be agreeable to the feelings and prejudices of their
new brethren.

BOSSUET. 695

Such were the advances made by Bossuet ; and much
discussion on them took place between him and Leibnitz.
They continued ten years. They are very learned, and a
scholar will read them with delight ; but, unfortunately,
they rather retarded, than promoted their object. The
real business ended, when Molanus quitted the scene.

Such is the account given by Charles Butler of this
transaction. Dom. de Foris, the Benedictine editor of
Bossuet, and the abbe Racine, are very severe in their
censures of the conduct of Leibnitz in the negotiations for
the re-union, and attribute its failure to his presumption
and duplicity. But, as Mr Butler justly observes, while
the business was in the hands of Bossuet and Molanus,
it was a treaty, not for the re-union of the Roman catholic
church and all protestant sects, but for the re-union of the
Roman catholic church and the Lutherans. Leibnitz,
whose principles in religion were much wider than those
of Molanus, seems to have wished to place the negociation
on a broader basis, and extended to a re-union of the
church of Rome with every denomination of Christians.
This gave the negociation a new turn, and ended what
had been so happily begun. The attempt now related to
what was clearly impracticable. Bossuet always expressed
great hopes that, if the matter were left to Molanus and
him, the project of re-union would be crowned with suc-
cess. There is no part of Bossuet's literary or active life,
in which he appears to greater advantage, or in a more
amiable light, than on this occasion.

Zealous as Bossuet was for the conversion of the French
protestants to the Gallican church, in his controversies
with them, he always abstained from personalities, in-
jurious language, and insults ; and he is said to have
lamented, in common with Fenelon and Flechier, the
persecution of the Huguenots which followed on the revo-
cation of the edict of Nantes : though he certainly did
admit in theory the right of Christian princes to enforce
acts of religious conformity, by "wholesome severities."
In earlv life he had devoted himself to biblical studies,

596 BOSSUET."

and to promote these studies, when he became a bishop
he held frequent conferences with his clergy. A consider-
able portion of his time was always devoted to prayer and
devotional exercises. He was a frequent preacher, and
composed three catechisms for his diocese, for beginners,
the instructed, and the well-instructed. His correspon-
dence as a spiritual adviser was extensive, although he
did not generally hear confessions. His sermons in his
diocese were short and simple, often extempore, though
seldom unprepared. His sermons at court, and his
funeral orations, rank high in the literature of France.

As a proof of the candour which he certainly possessed,
it may be mentioned, that when Eobert Nelson, who knew
him well, and whose wife he was mainly instrumental in
perverting to Romanism, forwarded to him a copy of his
friend Dr Bulls famous Judicium Ecclesice Catholics, he
acknowledged the receipt of it in terms of the highest
commendation ; at the same time sending its author the
united congratulations of the clergy of France. In the
letter which conveyed this flattering distinction, Bossuet
expressed his surprise, that any one who spoke so advan-
tageously of the Church could continue a moment without
acknowledging her, and wishes to be informed what the
writer means by the term " Catholic Church." To this
letter Bull wrote a long reply, now known under the title
of Tlie Corruptions of the Church of Rome in relation to
Ecclesiastical Government, the rule of Faith, and form of
Divine worship — in which he shews that the Roman
church and the catholic Church are not convertible terms ;
the great danger of salvation to those who live in com-
munion with the church of Rome ; and that the infallible
assistance of the Holy Ghost in the council of Nice is no
argument for such assistance in the convention of Trent.
It is to be regretted, as a prolonged controversy between
disputants of such acknowledged piety and learning might
have been attended with beneficial results, that Bossuet
died just after Bulls answer had been sent to Nelson, to
be forwarded by him to the bishop ; and hence he never

BOSSUET. 597

received it. He died at Paris on the 12th of April, 1704,
employing himself in his last illness with a commentary
on the 2 2d psalm, or as it is numbered in the vulgate the
the 21st. He was buried in his own cathedral of Meaux.
His funeral was attended by the most distinguished pre-
lates of France, and an oration was pronounced on the
occasion. The same honour was paid to his memory in
the college of Navarre, where cardinal de Noialles per-
formed the pontifical ceremonies ; while at Rome, in the
college of the Propaganda, Chevalier Maffei celebrated his
death by an oration pronounced before cardinals, prelates,
and other eminent personages. Never indeed was any
divine more honoured in life, or more lamented in death,
by the Gallican church, than the bishop of Meaux, who is
considered by Gallicans to have been the last of the
fathers. This is flattery : but it must be admitted that
he who could boast of bishop Bull and Ptobert Nelson

among his eulogists was no ordinary man. Life by

Charles Butler. Nouvelle Edition des auvres de Bossuet.
Nelsons Life of Bull. Hallams Literature of Europe.
Mosheim. Teale's Life of Bull.

END OF THE SECOND VOLUME.

Princeton Theological Seminary Libraries

1 1012 01199 3757

Date Due

' i

(f)