away his own wife, and again in the disposal of the property plundered from the monasteries, which Cranmer wished to appropriate to the support of religion. But his opposition, however sincere, was unavailing; and since Henry was not incensed by it, we cannot believe that it was very hearty, for there does not appear to have been a solitary instance of this king's encountering resistance, without fierce resentment against his opposers. It is doubted whether Cranmer believed the doctrine of the real presence, which he renounced in the succeeding reign, or only maintained it, even to the blood of those who questioned it, through fear of Henry. Indeed it does seem as if this would be the point which reformers would first reject in reforming the old religion. But it will not do to reason from our own conclusions to theirs; for we find the Lutherans and other reformers on the continent, maintaining the same opinion. We see no reason, then, to doubt that he really believed this doctrine in the time of Henry, and perhaps it was natural that the most irrational doctrine of the ancient faith, should have been like the weakest child of the affections, most fondly loved and unwillingly surrendered.

The next thing which bears hard on the character of Cranmer, is the intolerance displayed by him in some instances of persecution. But before we fix the measure of this reproach, we must remember that intolerance was the order of the day. It is a stain from which hardly one great name is free. Even Sir Thomas More, in other respects so enlightened, seems to have caught the universal spirit in this; and so far as we may judge from the conduct of the different parties, it seems to have been thought, not a generous indeed, but still a fair and natural use of power. The complaints of the infamous cruelties of Mary's reign have been growing louder and louder from that time to the present. But then, the principal cause of censure seems to have been the number of her victims. The reformers themselves could hardly object to the principle which they had recommended by their own example. Difference of religious opinion seems to have been regarded, by common consent, as a crime worthy of death, and it was for the party in power to determine to whom this notable rule of justice should be applied. Even Mary, whose name has been a by-word for so many generations, is entitled to the full benefit of this explanation. She acted after the manner of the times; a convenient example for those whose tempers inclined them

to severity, and a temptation to all who wished to indulge revengeful passions, under the name of conscience and religion.

In the case of Joan Bocher, however, Cranmer has deprived himself of the benefit of this excuse, by going beyond his day. This woman had preached Unitarianism, as it was called, though her sentiments are not stated with much precision. Her own account of them was, 'that Christ did not take flesh of the outward man of the Virgin, because the outward man was conceived in sin; but by the consent of the inward man which was undefiled.' If this does not explain the matter, we know not what will. For this alarming doctrine, thus luminously expounded, she was brought before the inquisition in which Cranmer presided, and there persevering in her heresy, she was condemned to die. Our author praises the humanity of the reformer for his attempt to make her renounce her opinion; a sort of tender mercy which was afterwards imitated by the Catholics in their treatment of him. But an unexpected obstacle arose in the resistance of the young king Edward, whose gentle nature revolted at the thought of such a punishment for such a crime, but who, not daring to question the justice of her sentence, disguised his horror under the plea of unwillingness to send her to eternal punishment in another world. Unfortunately, the noble boy of eleven, proved no match for the veteran reformer of sixty, who combatted his objections with theological arguments, to which he could oppose nothing but the feelings of nature. He signed the warrant at last, with tears in his eyes. Little did the prelate think, in the midst of his conscientious exultation, that he was filing a bloody precedent, to which his enemies, at some future time, might triumphantly refer as a warrant for his own awful doom. But while we allow this justification of such deeds derived from the practice of that day, as far as it may reasonably go, we must say that it makes a material difference in our sympathy with the persecutors, when they in turn become the victims. To know that Rogers publicly approved the burning of Joan, would shock even the infants who have wept for him and his ten children; and though we cannot help feeling for Cranmer in the hours of his mortal agony, we know that he was a martyr to his own fatal example, as well as to the truth. When historians demand our sympathy for the suffering reformers, we cannot withhold it; but when they throw similar deeds of the reformers into shadow, and hold up those of the Catholics

to reprobation, we are compelled to say that they shared the guilt in nearly equal proportions. We feel, too, as if they of the purer faith might have shown themselves more merciful. We regret that their cruelties should have dishonored the cause of truth; and most deeply do we lament, that, instead of guiding the community to a better feeling, they needed themselves to be restrained and bounded by the general feeling of the people, whom they were leading in a necessary and just reform.

Again; Cranmer is implicated in the daring plot for changing the succession, under the pretence of saving the Protestant faith, but really to place the power in the hands of Northumberland. The right of Mary was unquestionable. It was secured by act of parliament and by Henry's will, besides that in those days of divine right, she was by birth the legitimate heir to the throne. The plan of Northumberland was, to set her claims aside, on the pretext that the act of parliament which excluded her, had never been repealed, and to place the crown on the head of Jane Gray, grandaughter of a younger sister of Henry, hoping that by the marriage of Jane to his son, he might himself be sovereign in everything but the name. Had his plan succeeded, he would certainly have governed with royal power; for the Lady Jane, though mature beyond her years, was a girl of sixteen, unacquainted with her claims and averse to such honors, and his son was young and entirely under his control. The youthful king was easily brought, by religious considerations, to take an interest in this plan, and he made a will excluding Mary and Elizabeth from the succession, and entailing the crown on the descendants of his aunt, the queen of France.

It will be remembered that Edward was in a manner under the guardianship of Cranmer, who was one of the executors of his father's will. In religious matters especially, it was the primate's duty to guard him from undue influence, and both as a friend and counsellor, to take the most decided stand against any measure which he knew to be unjust. That he did regard this exclusion of Mary as oppressive and unjust, he has himself declared. He tells us that for a long time he refused his consent; and at last was prevailed upon to act against his conscience by the entreaties of the king. By thus assuring us how strong were his convictions of Mary's right, he has testified against himself, that, with his eyes open, he was guilty of

treason to the state and unfaithfulness to the king, to whom at all hazards, he should have pointed out the path of duty. The excuses made for him let us into the secrets of his character. It seems that he required a private interview, because the presence of Northumberland prevented his speaking freely; and as this was not granted, there is no evidence that he made any attempt, beyond a statement of his own scruples, to shake the determination of the king. Our author, on the authority of his own imagination, tells us that Cranmer refused to consent, till he had consulted the judges, who gave their opinion that he might consistently take the oath required. This would have made no difference whatever. But it is well known that the judges were convinced that the proceeding was illegal, and would not acquiesce till they were overawed by all the power of the council and the king. Still the undaunted biographer, while he allows that Cranmer was 'amenable to censure,' thinks that admiration must preponderate in our view of his part in this transaction. But we confess, that we are inclined to transfer our share of the admiration to his biographer, who has succeeded in persuading himself that his hero was innocent, in the face of his own acknowledgment that he was guilty. Furthermore, he insists that whatever blame there might have been in the transaction, was effaced by his subsequent contrition. But it happens that the proof of this contrition is found in his letter to Mary, written with the express purpose of deprecating her displeasure. We have no doubt that he was penitent enough, when the plan had failed, when the crown had fallen from the head of the lovely usurper, and it only remained for the season of vengeance to succeed. We doubt not that a similar chill ran through the breasts of all the partners in this deed; for they had added fire to the wrath of a princess, which burned fiercely enough before. They had afforded ample grounds for a charge of treason. By their dangerous enterprise they had made Mary popular in the state, and given her a pretext for resisting the Protestant religion. Cranmer, above all the rest, had been the main instrument in that transaction which broke the heart of her injured mother, and brought reproach on her own birth. He had been the most earnest opposer of that faith which she as earnestly maintained. By his last act, he had shown himself willing to strip her of her birthright, and to make her an exile in the midst of that land which she was born to govern. In a condition like

that in which the primate stood, it may well be supposed, that his was a sort of deathbed repentance, with less remorse in it than despair.

Cranmer seems to have felt that he had nothing to hope for from the magnanimity or mercy of the queen. These were qualities in which none of the Tudors abounded. Mary and Elizabeth were equally deficient in these estimable virtues, which, if history speaks truth, are not apt to find their most familiar dwelling in royal breasts. It must be owned, that he had given provocation enough to incense one more generous than Mary; but she was contented with ordering him to confine himself to his palace, and did not then threaten anything severer. Still he was fully aware of the manner in which all parties follow up their victories, and it seems evident from his subsequent conduct, that he had wrought himself up to uncommon resolution, by reflecting perhaps on the magnitude of the cause of which he was counted the pillar, and considering what lofty firmness would naturally be expected from the head of a reforming party. While in this state of uncertainty, he heard that mass had been performed in his church at Canterbury, and that he himself had consented to celebrate the Catholic service in presence of the queen. He immediately came out with a denial and a public declaration of hostility to the Catholic religion, stating that the mass was full of horrible blasphemies and invented by the father of lies. This paper was remarkable for its boldness, and gave so much offence that he was sent for by the council, arraigned for treason and sedition, and committed to the Tower, a prison whose threshold was little worn by returning feet.

Far are we from justifying these abominations, but we must distribute our condemnation with impartiality. Can there be a doubt, that if any one in the preceding reigns, had thrown contempt on the prevailing faith, he would have been treated with equal harshness, or that Cranmer would have consented to his doom? Such doubts are answered by the fate of Lambert, Bocher, Paris, and others more than one. We see no right that one party had to persecute more than another, nor any justification to be made for one, in which the other may not share.

The courage of the prelate did not hold out to the last. His spirit, perhaps, was broken by imprisonment, and by witnessing the death of his associates, whom he expected to follow