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
Book online «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
to our princes. By
them she had been called into existence, nursed through a feeble
infancy, guarded from Papists on one side and from Puritans on
the other, protected against Parliaments which bore her no good
will, and avenged on literary assailants whom she found it hard
to answer. Thus gratitude, hope, fear, common attachments, common
enmities, bound her to the throne. All her traditions, all her
tastes, were monarchical. Loyalty became a point of professional
honour among her clergy, the peculiar badge which distinguished
them at once from Calvinists and from Papists. Both the
Calvinists and the Papists, widely as they differed in other
respects, regarded with extreme jealousy all encroachments of the
temporal power on the domain of the spiritual power. Both
Calvinists and Papists maintained that subjects might justifiably
draw the sword against ungodly rulers. In France Calvinists
resisted Charles the Ninth: Papists resisted Henry the Fourth:
both Papists and Calvinists resisted Henry the Third. In Scotland
Calvinists led Mary captive. On the north of the Trent Papists
took arms against the English throne. The Church of England
meantime condemned both Calvinists and Papists, and loudly
boasted that no duty was more constantly or earnestly inculcated
by her than that of submission to princes.
The advantages which the crown derived from this close alliance
with the Established Church were great; but they were not without
serious drawbacks. The compromise arranged by Cranmer had from
the first been considered by a large body of Protestants as a
scheme for serving two masters, as an attempt to unite the
worship of the Lord with the worship of Baal. In the days of
Edward the Sixth the scruples of this party had repeatedly thrown
great difficulties in the way of the government. When Elizabeth
came to the throne, those difficulties were much increased.
Violence naturally engenders violence. The spirit of
Protestantism was therefore far fiercer and more intolerant after
the cruelties of Mary than before them. Many persons who were
warmly attached to the new opinions had, during the evil days,
taken refuge in Switzerland and Germany. They had been hospitably
received by their brethren in the faith, had sate at the feet of
the great doctors of Strasburg, Zurich, and Geneva, and had been,
during, some years, accustomed to a more simple worship, and to a
more democratical form of church government, than England had yet
seen. These men returned to their country convinced that the
reform which had been effected under King Edward had been far
less searching and extensive than the interests of pure religion
required. But it was in vain that they attempted to obtain any
concession from Elizabeth. Indeed her system, wherever it
differed from her brother's, seemed to them to differ for the
worse. They were little disposed to submit, in matters of faith,
to any human authority. They had recently, in reliance on their
own interpretation of Scripture, risen up against a Church strong
in immemorial antiquity and catholic consent. It was by no common
exertion of intellectual energy that they had thrown off the yoke
of that gorgeous and imperial superstition; and it was vain to
expect that, immediately after such an emancipation, they would
patiently submit to a new spiritual tyranny. Long accustomed,
when the priest lifted up the host, to bow down with their faces
to the earth, as before a present God, they had learned to treat
the mass as an idolatrous mummery. Long accustomed to regard the
Pope as the successor of the chief of the apostles, as the bearer
of the keys of earth and heaven, they had learned to regard him
as the Beast, the Antichrist, the Man of Sin. It was not to be
expected that they would immediately transfer to an upstart
authority the homage which they had withdrawn from the Vatican;
that they would submit their private judgment to the authority of
a Church founded on private judgment alone; that they would be
afraid to dissent from teachers who themselves dissented from
what had lately been the universal faith of western Christendom.
It is easy to conceive the indignation which must have been felt
by bold and inquisitive spirits, glorying in newly acquired
freedom, when an institution younger by many years than
themselves, an institution which had, under their own eyes,
gradually received its form from the passions and interest of a
court, began to mimic the lofty style of Rome.
Since these men could not be convinced, it was determined that
they should be persecuted. Persecution produced its natural
effect on them. It found them a sect: it made them a faction. To
their hatred of the Church was now added hatred of the Crown. The
two sentiments were intermingled; and each embittered the other.
The opinions of the Puritan concerning the relation of ruler and
subject were widely different from those which were inculcated in
the Homilies. His favourite divines had, both by precept and by
example, encouraged resistance to tyrants and persecutors. His
fellow Calvinists in France, in Holland, and in Scotland, were in
arms against idolatrous and cruel princes. His notions, too,
respecting, the government of the state took a tinge from his
notions respecting the government of the Church. Some of the
sarcasms which were popularly thrown on episcopacy might, without
much difficulty, be turned against royalty; and many of the
arguments which were used to prove that spiritual power was best
lodged in a synod seemed to lead to the conclusion that temporal
power was best lodged in a parliament.
Thus, as the priest of the Established Church was, from interest,
from principle, and from passion, zealous for the royal
prerogatives, the Puritan was, from interest, from principle, and
from passion, hostile to them. The power of the discontented
sectaries was great. They were found in every rank; but they were
strongest among the mercantile classes in the towns, and among
the small proprietors in the country. Early in the reign of
Elizabeth they began to return a majority of the House of
Commons. And doubtless had our ancestors been then at liberty to
fix their attention entirely on domestic questions, the strife
between the Crown and the Parliament would instantly have
commenced. But that was no season for internal dissensions. It
might, indeed, well be doubted whether the firmest union among
all the orders of the state could avert the common danger by
which all were threatened. Roman Catholic Europe and reformed
Europe were struggling for death or life. France divided against
herself, had, for a time, ceased to be of any account in
Christendom. The English Government was at the head of the
Protestant interest, and, while persecuting Presbyterians at
home, extended a powerful protection to Presbyterian Churches
abroad. At the head of the opposite party was the mightiest
prince of the age, a prince who ruled Spain, Portugal, Italy, the
East and the West Indies, whose armies repeatedly marched to
Paris, and whose fleets kept the coasts of Devonshire and Sussex
in alarm. It long seemed probable that Englishmen would have to
fight desperately on English ground for their religion and
independence. Nor were they ever for a moment free from
apprehensions of some great treason at home. For in that age it
had become a point of conscience and of honour with many men of
generous natures to sacrifice their country to their religion. A
succession of dark plots, formed by Roman Catholics against the
life of the Queen and the existence of the nation, kept society
in constant alarm. Whatever might be the faults of Elizabeth, it
was plain that, to speak humanly, the fate of the realm and of
all reformed Churches was staked on the security of her person
and on the success of her administration. To strengthen her hands
was, therefore, the first duty of a patriot and a Protestant; and
that duty was well performed. The Puritans, even in the depths of
the prisons to which she had sent them, prayed, and with no
simulated fervour, that she might be kept from the dagger of the
assassin, that rebellion might be put down under her feet, and
that her arms might be victorious by sea and land. One of the
most stubborn of the stubborn sect, immediately after his hand
had been lopped off for an offence into which he had been hurried
by his intemperate zeal, waved his hat with the hand which was
still left him, and shouted "God save the Queen!" The sentiment
with which these men regarded her has descended to their
posterity. The Nonconformists, rigorously as she treated them,
have, as a body, always venerated her memory.5
During the greater part of her reign, therefore, the Puritans in
the House of Commons, though sometimes mutinous, felt no
disposition to array themselves in systematic opposition to the
government. But, when the defeat of the Armada, the successful
resistance of the United Provinces to the Spanish power, the firm
establishment of Henry the Fourth on the throne of France, and
the death of Philip the Second, had secured the State and the
Church against all danger from abroad, an obstinate struggle,
destined to last during several generations, instantly began at
home.
It was in the Parliament of 1601 that the opposition which had,
during forty years, been silently gathering and husbanding
strength, fought its first great battle and won its first
victory. The ground was well chosen. The English Sovereigns had
always been entrusted with the supreme direction of commercial
police. It was their undoubted prerogative to regulate coin,
weights, and measures, and to appoint fairs, markets, and ports.
The line which bounded their authority over trade had, as usual,
been but loosely drawn. They therefore, as usual, encroached on
the province which rightfully belonged to the legislature. The
encroachment was, as usual, patiently borne, till it became
serious. But at length the Queen took upon herself to grant
patents of monopoly by scores. There was scarcely a family in the
realm which did not feel itself aggrieved by the oppression and
extortion which this abuse naturally caused. Iron, oil, vinegar,
coal, saltpetre, lead, starch, yarn, skins, leather, glass, could
be bought only at exorbitant prices. The House of Commons met in
an angry and determined mood. It was in vain that a courtly
minority blamed the Speaker for suffering the acts of the Queen's
Highness to be called in question. The language of the
discontented party was high and menacing, and was echoed by the
voice of the whole nation. The coach of the chief minister of the
crown was surrounded by an indignant populace, who cursed the
monopolies, and exclaimed that the prerogative should not be
suffered to touch the old liberties of England. There seemed for
a moment to be some danger that the long and glorious reign of
Elizabeth would have a shameful and disastrous end. She, however,
with admirable
them she had been called into existence, nursed through a feeble
infancy, guarded from Papists on one side and from Puritans on
the other, protected against Parliaments which bore her no good
will, and avenged on literary assailants whom she found it hard
to answer. Thus gratitude, hope, fear, common attachments, common
enmities, bound her to the throne. All her traditions, all her
tastes, were monarchical. Loyalty became a point of professional
honour among her clergy, the peculiar badge which distinguished
them at once from Calvinists and from Papists. Both the
Calvinists and the Papists, widely as they differed in other
respects, regarded with extreme jealousy all encroachments of the
temporal power on the domain of the spiritual power. Both
Calvinists and Papists maintained that subjects might justifiably
draw the sword against ungodly rulers. In France Calvinists
resisted Charles the Ninth: Papists resisted Henry the Fourth:
both Papists and Calvinists resisted Henry the Third. In Scotland
Calvinists led Mary captive. On the north of the Trent Papists
took arms against the English throne. The Church of England
meantime condemned both Calvinists and Papists, and loudly
boasted that no duty was more constantly or earnestly inculcated
by her than that of submission to princes.
The advantages which the crown derived from this close alliance
with the Established Church were great; but they were not without
serious drawbacks. The compromise arranged by Cranmer had from
the first been considered by a large body of Protestants as a
scheme for serving two masters, as an attempt to unite the
worship of the Lord with the worship of Baal. In the days of
Edward the Sixth the scruples of this party had repeatedly thrown
great difficulties in the way of the government. When Elizabeth
came to the throne, those difficulties were much increased.
Violence naturally engenders violence. The spirit of
Protestantism was therefore far fiercer and more intolerant after
the cruelties of Mary than before them. Many persons who were
warmly attached to the new opinions had, during the evil days,
taken refuge in Switzerland and Germany. They had been hospitably
received by their brethren in the faith, had sate at the feet of
the great doctors of Strasburg, Zurich, and Geneva, and had been,
during, some years, accustomed to a more simple worship, and to a
more democratical form of church government, than England had yet
seen. These men returned to their country convinced that the
reform which had been effected under King Edward had been far
less searching and extensive than the interests of pure religion
required. But it was in vain that they attempted to obtain any
concession from Elizabeth. Indeed her system, wherever it
differed from her brother's, seemed to them to differ for the
worse. They were little disposed to submit, in matters of faith,
to any human authority. They had recently, in reliance on their
own interpretation of Scripture, risen up against a Church strong
in immemorial antiquity and catholic consent. It was by no common
exertion of intellectual energy that they had thrown off the yoke
of that gorgeous and imperial superstition; and it was vain to
expect that, immediately after such an emancipation, they would
patiently submit to a new spiritual tyranny. Long accustomed,
when the priest lifted up the host, to bow down with their faces
to the earth, as before a present God, they had learned to treat
the mass as an idolatrous mummery. Long accustomed to regard the
Pope as the successor of the chief of the apostles, as the bearer
of the keys of earth and heaven, they had learned to regard him
as the Beast, the Antichrist, the Man of Sin. It was not to be
expected that they would immediately transfer to an upstart
authority the homage which they had withdrawn from the Vatican;
that they would submit their private judgment to the authority of
a Church founded on private judgment alone; that they would be
afraid to dissent from teachers who themselves dissented from
what had lately been the universal faith of western Christendom.
It is easy to conceive the indignation which must have been felt
by bold and inquisitive spirits, glorying in newly acquired
freedom, when an institution younger by many years than
themselves, an institution which had, under their own eyes,
gradually received its form from the passions and interest of a
court, began to mimic the lofty style of Rome.
Since these men could not be convinced, it was determined that
they should be persecuted. Persecution produced its natural
effect on them. It found them a sect: it made them a faction. To
their hatred of the Church was now added hatred of the Crown. The
two sentiments were intermingled; and each embittered the other.
The opinions of the Puritan concerning the relation of ruler and
subject were widely different from those which were inculcated in
the Homilies. His favourite divines had, both by precept and by
example, encouraged resistance to tyrants and persecutors. His
fellow Calvinists in France, in Holland, and in Scotland, were in
arms against idolatrous and cruel princes. His notions, too,
respecting, the government of the state took a tinge from his
notions respecting the government of the Church. Some of the
sarcasms which were popularly thrown on episcopacy might, without
much difficulty, be turned against royalty; and many of the
arguments which were used to prove that spiritual power was best
lodged in a synod seemed to lead to the conclusion that temporal
power was best lodged in a parliament.
Thus, as the priest of the Established Church was, from interest,
from principle, and from passion, zealous for the royal
prerogatives, the Puritan was, from interest, from principle, and
from passion, hostile to them. The power of the discontented
sectaries was great. They were found in every rank; but they were
strongest among the mercantile classes in the towns, and among
the small proprietors in the country. Early in the reign of
Elizabeth they began to return a majority of the House of
Commons. And doubtless had our ancestors been then at liberty to
fix their attention entirely on domestic questions, the strife
between the Crown and the Parliament would instantly have
commenced. But that was no season for internal dissensions. It
might, indeed, well be doubted whether the firmest union among
all the orders of the state could avert the common danger by
which all were threatened. Roman Catholic Europe and reformed
Europe were struggling for death or life. France divided against
herself, had, for a time, ceased to be of any account in
Christendom. The English Government was at the head of the
Protestant interest, and, while persecuting Presbyterians at
home, extended a powerful protection to Presbyterian Churches
abroad. At the head of the opposite party was the mightiest
prince of the age, a prince who ruled Spain, Portugal, Italy, the
East and the West Indies, whose armies repeatedly marched to
Paris, and whose fleets kept the coasts of Devonshire and Sussex
in alarm. It long seemed probable that Englishmen would have to
fight desperately on English ground for their religion and
independence. Nor were they ever for a moment free from
apprehensions of some great treason at home. For in that age it
had become a point of conscience and of honour with many men of
generous natures to sacrifice their country to their religion. A
succession of dark plots, formed by Roman Catholics against the
life of the Queen and the existence of the nation, kept society
in constant alarm. Whatever might be the faults of Elizabeth, it
was plain that, to speak humanly, the fate of the realm and of
all reformed Churches was staked on the security of her person
and on the success of her administration. To strengthen her hands
was, therefore, the first duty of a patriot and a Protestant; and
that duty was well performed. The Puritans, even in the depths of
the prisons to which she had sent them, prayed, and with no
simulated fervour, that she might be kept from the dagger of the
assassin, that rebellion might be put down under her feet, and
that her arms might be victorious by sea and land. One of the
most stubborn of the stubborn sect, immediately after his hand
had been lopped off for an offence into which he had been hurried
by his intemperate zeal, waved his hat with the hand which was
still left him, and shouted "God save the Queen!" The sentiment
with which these men regarded her has descended to their
posterity. The Nonconformists, rigorously as she treated them,
have, as a body, always venerated her memory.5
During the greater part of her reign, therefore, the Puritans in
the House of Commons, though sometimes mutinous, felt no
disposition to array themselves in systematic opposition to the
government. But, when the defeat of the Armada, the successful
resistance of the United Provinces to the Spanish power, the firm
establishment of Henry the Fourth on the throne of France, and
the death of Philip the Second, had secured the State and the
Church against all danger from abroad, an obstinate struggle,
destined to last during several generations, instantly began at
home.
It was in the Parliament of 1601 that the opposition which had,
during forty years, been silently gathering and husbanding
strength, fought its first great battle and won its first
victory. The ground was well chosen. The English Sovereigns had
always been entrusted with the supreme direction of commercial
police. It was their undoubted prerogative to regulate coin,
weights, and measures, and to appoint fairs, markets, and ports.
The line which bounded their authority over trade had, as usual,
been but loosely drawn. They therefore, as usual, encroached on
the province which rightfully belonged to the legislature. The
encroachment was, as usual, patiently borne, till it became
serious. But at length the Queen took upon herself to grant
patents of monopoly by scores. There was scarcely a family in the
realm which did not feel itself aggrieved by the oppression and
extortion which this abuse naturally caused. Iron, oil, vinegar,
coal, saltpetre, lead, starch, yarn, skins, leather, glass, could
be bought only at exorbitant prices. The House of Commons met in
an angry and determined mood. It was in vain that a courtly
minority blamed the Speaker for suffering the acts of the Queen's
Highness to be called in question. The language of the
discontented party was high and menacing, and was echoed by the
voice of the whole nation. The coach of the chief minister of the
crown was surrounded by an indignant populace, who cursed the
monopolies, and exclaimed that the prerogative should not be
suffered to touch the old liberties of England. There seemed for
a moment to be some danger that the long and glorious reign of
Elizabeth would have a shameful and disastrous end. She, however,
with admirable
Free e-book «The History of England, from the Accession of James the Second - Volume 1 - Thomas Babington Macaulay (novel books to read TXT) 📗» - read online now
Similar e-books:
Comments (0)