The History of England, from the Accession of James the Second - Volume 1 - Thomas Babington Macaulay (novel books to read TXT) 📗
- Author: Thomas Babington Macaulay
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blessing. The leading strings, which preserve and uphold the
infant, would impede the fullgrown man. And so the very means by
which the human mind is, in one stage of its progress, supported
and propelled, may, in another stage, be mere hindrances. There
is a season in the life both of an individual and of a society,
at which submission and faith, such as at a later period would be
justly called servility and credulity, are useful qualities. The
child who teachably and undoubtingly listens to the instructions
of his elders is likely to improve rapidly. But the man who
should receive with childlike docility every assertion and dogma
uttered by another man no wiser than himself would become
contemptible. It is the same with communities. The childhood of
the European nations was passed under the tutelage of the clergy.
The ascendancy of the sacerdotal order was long the ascendancy
which naturally and properly belongs to intellectual superiority.
The priests, with all their faults, were by far the wisest
portion of society. It was, therefore, on the whole, good that
they should be respected and obeyed. The encroachments of the
ecclesiastical power on the province of the civil power produced
much more happiness than misery, while the ecclesiastical power
was in the hands of the only class that had studied history,
philosophy, and public law, and while the civil power was in the
hands of savage chiefs, who could not read their own grants and
edicts. But a change took place. Knowledge gradually spread among
laymen. At the commencement of the sixteenth century many of them
were in every intellectual attainment fully equal to the most
enlightened of their spiritual pastors. Thenceforward that
dominion, which, during the dark ages, had been, in spite of many
abuses, a legitimate and salutary guardianship, became an unjust
and noxious tyranny.
From the time when the barbarians overran the Western Empire to
the time of the revival of letters, the influence of the Church
of Rome had been generally favourable to science to civilisation,
and to good government. But, during the last three centuries, to
stunt the growth of the human mind has been her chief object.
Throughout Christendom, whatever advance has been made in
knowledge, in freedom, in wealth, and in the arts of life, has
been made in spite of her, and has everywhere been in inverse
proportion to her power. The loveliest and most fertile provinces
of Europe have, under her rule, been sunk in poverty, in
political servitude, and in intellectual torpor, while Protestant
countries, once proverbial for sterility and barbarism, have been
turned by skill and industry into gardens, and can boast of a
long list of heroes and statesmen, philosophers and poets.
Whoever, knowing what Italy and Scotland naturally are, and what,
four hundred years ago, they actually were, shall now compare the
country round Rome with the country round Edinburgh, will be able
to form some judgment as to the tendency of Papal domination. The
descent of Spain, once the first among monarchies, to the lowest
depths of degradation, the elevation of Holland, in spite of many
natural disadvantages, to a position such as no commonwealth so
small has ever reached, teach the same lesson. Whoever passes in
Germany from a Roman Catholic to a Protestant principality, in
Switzerland from a Roman Catholic to a Protestant canton, in
Ireland from a Roman Catholic to a Protestant county, finds that
he has passed from a lower to a higher grade of civilisation. On
the other side of the Atlantic the same law prevails. The
Protestants of the United States have left far behind them the
Roman Catholics of Mexico, Peru, and Brazil. The Roman Catholics
of Lower Canada remain inert, while the whole continent round
them is in a ferment with Protestant activity and enterprise. The
French have doubtless shown an energy and an intelligence which,
even when misdirected, have justly entitled them to be called a
great people. But this apparent exception, when examined, will be
found to confirm. the rule; for in no country that is called
Roman Catholic, has the Roman Catholic Church, during several
generations, possessed so little authority as in France. The
literature of France is justly held in high esteem throughout the
world. But if we deduct from that literature all that belongs to
four parties which have been, on different grounds, in rebellion
against the Papal domination, all that belongs to the
Protestants, all that belongs to the assertors of the Gallican
liberties, all that belongs to the Jansenists, and all that
belongs to the philosophers, how much will be left?
It is difficult to say whether England owes more to the Roman
Catholic religion or to the Reformation. For the amalgamation of
races and for the abolition of villenage, she is chiefly indebted
to the influence which the priesthood in the middle ages
exercised over the laity. For political and intellectual freedom,
and for all the blessings which political and intellectual
freedom have brought in their train, she is chiefly indebted to
the great rebellion of the laity against the priesthood.
The struggle between the old and the new theology in our country
was long, and the event sometimes seemed doubtful. There were two
extreme parties, prepared to act with violence or to suffer with
stubborn resolution. Between them lay, during a considerable
time, a middle party, which blended, very illogically, but by no
means unnaturally, lessons learned in the nursery with the
sermons of the modern evangelists, and, while clinging with
fondness to all observances, yet detested abuses with which those
observances were closely connected. Men in such a frame of mind
were willing to obey, almost with thankfulness, the dictation of
an able ruler who spared them the trouble of judging for
themselves, and, raising a firm and commanding voice above the
uproar of controversy, told them how to worship and what to
believe. It is not strange, therefore, that the Tudors should
have been able to exercise a great influence on ecclesiastical
affairs; nor is it strange that their influence should, for the
most part, have been exercised with a view to their own interest.
Henry the Eighth attempted to constitute an Anglican Church
differing from the Roman Catholic Church on the point of the
supremacy, and on that point alone. His success in this attempt
was extraordinary. The force of his character, the singularly
favourable situation in which he stood with respect to foreign
powers, the immense wealth which the spoliation of the abbeys
placed at his disposal, and the support of that class which still
halted between two Opinions, enabled him to bid defiance to both
the extreme parties, to burn as heretics those who avowed the
tenets of the Reformers, and to hang as traitors those who owned
the authority of the Pope. But Henry's system died with him. Had
his life been prolonged, he would have found it difficult to
maintain a position assailed with equal fury by all who were
zealous either for the new or for the old opinions. The ministers
who held the royal prerogatives in trust for his infant son could
not venture to persist in so hazardous a policy; nor could
Elizabeth venture to return to it. It was necessary to make a
choice. The government must either submit to Rome, or must obtain
the aid of the Protestants. The government and the Protestants
had only one thing in common, hatred of the Papal power. The
English Reformers were eager to go as far as their brethren on
the Continent. They unanimously condemned as Antichristian
numerous dogmas and practices to which Henry had stubbornly
adhered, and which Elizabeth reluctantly abandoned. Many felt a
strong repugnance even to things indifferent which had formed
part of the polity or ritual of the mystical Babylon. Thus Bishop
Hooper, who died manfully at Gloucester for his religion, long
refused to wear the episcopal vestments. Bishop Ridley, a martyr
of still greater renown, pulled down the ancient altars of his
diocese, and ordered the Eucharist to be administered in the
middle of churches, at tables which the Papists irreverently
termed oyster boards. Bishop Jewel pronounced the clerical garb
to be a stage dress, a fool's coat, a relique of the Amorites,
and promised that he would spare no labour to extirpate such
degrading absurdities. Archbishop Grindal long hesitated about
accepting a mitre from dislike of what he regarded as the mummery
of consecration. Bishop Parkhurst uttered a fervent prayer that
the Church of England would propose to herself the Church of
Zurich as the absolute pattern of a Christian community. Bishop
Ponet was of opinion that the word Bishop should be abandoned to
the Papists, and that the chief officers of the purified church
should be called Superintendents. When it is considered that none
of these prelates belonged to the extreme section of the
Protestant party, it cannot be doubted that, if the general sense
of that party had been followed. the work of reform would have
been carried on as unsparingly in England as in Scotland.
But, as the government needed the support of the protestants, so
the Protestants needed the protection of the government. Much was
therefore given up on both sides: an union was effected; and the
fruit of that union was the Church of England.
To the peculiarities of this great institution, and to the strong
passions which it has called forth in the minds both of friends
and of enemies, are to be attributed many of the most important
events which have, since the Reformation, taken place in our
country; nor can the secular history of England be at all
understood by us, unless we study it in constant connection with
the history of her ecclesiastical polity.
The man who took the chief part in settling the condition, of the
alliance which produced the Anglican Church was Archbishop
Cranmer. He was the representative of both the parties which, at
that time, needed each other's assistance. He was at once a
divine and a courtier. In his character of divine he was
perfectly ready to go as far in the way of change as any Swiss or
Scottish Reformer. In his character of courtier he was desirous
to preserve that organisation which had, during many ages,
admirably served the purposes of the Bishops of Rome, and might
be expected now to serve equally well the purposes of the English
Kings and of their ministers. His temper and his understanding,
eminently fitted him to act as mediator. Saintly in his
professions, unscrupulous in his dealings, zealous for nothing,
bold in speculation, a coward and a timeserver in action, a
placable enemy and a lukewarm friend, he was in every way
qualified to arrange the terms of the coalition between the
religious and the worldly enemies of Popery.
To this day the constitution, the doctrines, and the services
blessing. The leading strings, which preserve and uphold the
infant, would impede the fullgrown man. And so the very means by
which the human mind is, in one stage of its progress, supported
and propelled, may, in another stage, be mere hindrances. There
is a season in the life both of an individual and of a society,
at which submission and faith, such as at a later period would be
justly called servility and credulity, are useful qualities. The
child who teachably and undoubtingly listens to the instructions
of his elders is likely to improve rapidly. But the man who
should receive with childlike docility every assertion and dogma
uttered by another man no wiser than himself would become
contemptible. It is the same with communities. The childhood of
the European nations was passed under the tutelage of the clergy.
The ascendancy of the sacerdotal order was long the ascendancy
which naturally and properly belongs to intellectual superiority.
The priests, with all their faults, were by far the wisest
portion of society. It was, therefore, on the whole, good that
they should be respected and obeyed. The encroachments of the
ecclesiastical power on the province of the civil power produced
much more happiness than misery, while the ecclesiastical power
was in the hands of the only class that had studied history,
philosophy, and public law, and while the civil power was in the
hands of savage chiefs, who could not read their own grants and
edicts. But a change took place. Knowledge gradually spread among
laymen. At the commencement of the sixteenth century many of them
were in every intellectual attainment fully equal to the most
enlightened of their spiritual pastors. Thenceforward that
dominion, which, during the dark ages, had been, in spite of many
abuses, a legitimate and salutary guardianship, became an unjust
and noxious tyranny.
From the time when the barbarians overran the Western Empire to
the time of the revival of letters, the influence of the Church
of Rome had been generally favourable to science to civilisation,
and to good government. But, during the last three centuries, to
stunt the growth of the human mind has been her chief object.
Throughout Christendom, whatever advance has been made in
knowledge, in freedom, in wealth, and in the arts of life, has
been made in spite of her, and has everywhere been in inverse
proportion to her power. The loveliest and most fertile provinces
of Europe have, under her rule, been sunk in poverty, in
political servitude, and in intellectual torpor, while Protestant
countries, once proverbial for sterility and barbarism, have been
turned by skill and industry into gardens, and can boast of a
long list of heroes and statesmen, philosophers and poets.
Whoever, knowing what Italy and Scotland naturally are, and what,
four hundred years ago, they actually were, shall now compare the
country round Rome with the country round Edinburgh, will be able
to form some judgment as to the tendency of Papal domination. The
descent of Spain, once the first among monarchies, to the lowest
depths of degradation, the elevation of Holland, in spite of many
natural disadvantages, to a position such as no commonwealth so
small has ever reached, teach the same lesson. Whoever passes in
Germany from a Roman Catholic to a Protestant principality, in
Switzerland from a Roman Catholic to a Protestant canton, in
Ireland from a Roman Catholic to a Protestant county, finds that
he has passed from a lower to a higher grade of civilisation. On
the other side of the Atlantic the same law prevails. The
Protestants of the United States have left far behind them the
Roman Catholics of Mexico, Peru, and Brazil. The Roman Catholics
of Lower Canada remain inert, while the whole continent round
them is in a ferment with Protestant activity and enterprise. The
French have doubtless shown an energy and an intelligence which,
even when misdirected, have justly entitled them to be called a
great people. But this apparent exception, when examined, will be
found to confirm. the rule; for in no country that is called
Roman Catholic, has the Roman Catholic Church, during several
generations, possessed so little authority as in France. The
literature of France is justly held in high esteem throughout the
world. But if we deduct from that literature all that belongs to
four parties which have been, on different grounds, in rebellion
against the Papal domination, all that belongs to the
Protestants, all that belongs to the assertors of the Gallican
liberties, all that belongs to the Jansenists, and all that
belongs to the philosophers, how much will be left?
It is difficult to say whether England owes more to the Roman
Catholic religion or to the Reformation. For the amalgamation of
races and for the abolition of villenage, she is chiefly indebted
to the influence which the priesthood in the middle ages
exercised over the laity. For political and intellectual freedom,
and for all the blessings which political and intellectual
freedom have brought in their train, she is chiefly indebted to
the great rebellion of the laity against the priesthood.
The struggle between the old and the new theology in our country
was long, and the event sometimes seemed doubtful. There were two
extreme parties, prepared to act with violence or to suffer with
stubborn resolution. Between them lay, during a considerable
time, a middle party, which blended, very illogically, but by no
means unnaturally, lessons learned in the nursery with the
sermons of the modern evangelists, and, while clinging with
fondness to all observances, yet detested abuses with which those
observances were closely connected. Men in such a frame of mind
were willing to obey, almost with thankfulness, the dictation of
an able ruler who spared them the trouble of judging for
themselves, and, raising a firm and commanding voice above the
uproar of controversy, told them how to worship and what to
believe. It is not strange, therefore, that the Tudors should
have been able to exercise a great influence on ecclesiastical
affairs; nor is it strange that their influence should, for the
most part, have been exercised with a view to their own interest.
Henry the Eighth attempted to constitute an Anglican Church
differing from the Roman Catholic Church on the point of the
supremacy, and on that point alone. His success in this attempt
was extraordinary. The force of his character, the singularly
favourable situation in which he stood with respect to foreign
powers, the immense wealth which the spoliation of the abbeys
placed at his disposal, and the support of that class which still
halted between two Opinions, enabled him to bid defiance to both
the extreme parties, to burn as heretics those who avowed the
tenets of the Reformers, and to hang as traitors those who owned
the authority of the Pope. But Henry's system died with him. Had
his life been prolonged, he would have found it difficult to
maintain a position assailed with equal fury by all who were
zealous either for the new or for the old opinions. The ministers
who held the royal prerogatives in trust for his infant son could
not venture to persist in so hazardous a policy; nor could
Elizabeth venture to return to it. It was necessary to make a
choice. The government must either submit to Rome, or must obtain
the aid of the Protestants. The government and the Protestants
had only one thing in common, hatred of the Papal power. The
English Reformers were eager to go as far as their brethren on
the Continent. They unanimously condemned as Antichristian
numerous dogmas and practices to which Henry had stubbornly
adhered, and which Elizabeth reluctantly abandoned. Many felt a
strong repugnance even to things indifferent which had formed
part of the polity or ritual of the mystical Babylon. Thus Bishop
Hooper, who died manfully at Gloucester for his religion, long
refused to wear the episcopal vestments. Bishop Ridley, a martyr
of still greater renown, pulled down the ancient altars of his
diocese, and ordered the Eucharist to be administered in the
middle of churches, at tables which the Papists irreverently
termed oyster boards. Bishop Jewel pronounced the clerical garb
to be a stage dress, a fool's coat, a relique of the Amorites,
and promised that he would spare no labour to extirpate such
degrading absurdities. Archbishop Grindal long hesitated about
accepting a mitre from dislike of what he regarded as the mummery
of consecration. Bishop Parkhurst uttered a fervent prayer that
the Church of England would propose to herself the Church of
Zurich as the absolute pattern of a Christian community. Bishop
Ponet was of opinion that the word Bishop should be abandoned to
the Papists, and that the chief officers of the purified church
should be called Superintendents. When it is considered that none
of these prelates belonged to the extreme section of the
Protestant party, it cannot be doubted that, if the general sense
of that party had been followed. the work of reform would have
been carried on as unsparingly in England as in Scotland.
But, as the government needed the support of the protestants, so
the Protestants needed the protection of the government. Much was
therefore given up on both sides: an union was effected; and the
fruit of that union was the Church of England.
To the peculiarities of this great institution, and to the strong
passions which it has called forth in the minds both of friends
and of enemies, are to be attributed many of the most important
events which have, since the Reformation, taken place in our
country; nor can the secular history of England be at all
understood by us, unless we study it in constant connection with
the history of her ecclesiastical polity.
The man who took the chief part in settling the condition, of the
alliance which produced the Anglican Church was Archbishop
Cranmer. He was the representative of both the parties which, at
that time, needed each other's assistance. He was at once a
divine and a courtier. In his character of divine he was
perfectly ready to go as far in the way of change as any Swiss or
Scottish Reformer. In his character of courtier he was desirous
to preserve that organisation which had, during many ages,
admirably served the purposes of the Bishops of Rome, and might
be expected now to serve equally well the purposes of the English
Kings and of their ministers. His temper and his understanding,
eminently fitted him to act as mediator. Saintly in his
professions, unscrupulous in his dealings, zealous for nothing,
bold in speculation, a coward and a timeserver in action, a
placable enemy and a lukewarm friend, he was in every way
qualified to arrange the terms of the coalition between the
religious and the worldly enemies of Popery.
To this day the constitution, the doctrines, and the services
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