Kitabı oku: «A Supplication for the Beggars», sayfa 3

III

To this account we may add two notices. Sir T. More replying in his Apology to the “Pacifier” [Christopher Saint Germain] in the spring of 1533, gives at fol. 124, the following account of our Author’s death —

And these men in the iudgement of thys pytuouse pacyfyer be not dyscrete / but yet they haue he sayth a good zele though. And thys good zele hadde, ye wote well, Simon Fysshe when he made the supplycacyon of beggers. But god gaue hym such grace afterwarde, that he was sory for that good zele, and repented hym selfe and came into the chyrche agayne, and forsoke and forsware all the whole hyll of those heresyes, out of whiche the fountayne of that same good zele sprange. [Also at p. 881, Workes. Ed. 1557.]

This is contrary to the tenour of everything else that we know of the man: but Sir T. More, possessing such excellent means of obtaining information, may nevertheless be true.

Lastly. Anthony à Wood in his Ath. Oxon. i. 59, Ed. 1813, while giving us the wrong year of his death, tells us of his place of burial.

At length being overtaken by the pestilence, died of it in fifteen hundred thirty and one, and was buried in the church of St. Dunstan (in the West).

Tyndale had often preached in this church.

IV

What a picture of the cruel, unclean and hypocritical monkery that was eating at the heart’s core of English society is given to us in this terse and brave little book? Abate from its calculations whatever in fairness Sir T. More would have wished us to deduct; we cannot but shudder as we try to realize the then social condition of our country; and all the more, when we remember that the fountain of all this unmercifulness, impurity and ignorance was found in the very persons who professed to be, and who should have been the Divine Teachers of our nation. It argues, too, much for the virility of the English race, that it could have sustained, in gradually increasing intensity, such a widespread mass of festering and corroding blotches of vice, and could by and bye throw it off altogether; so that in subsequent ages no other nation has surpassed us in manhood.

It is marvellous to us how the ecclesiastical fungus could have ever so blotted out of sight both the royal prerogative and the people’s liberties. Was not Henry VIII the man for this hour? A bold lusty and masterful one, imperious and impatient of check, full of the animal enjoyment of life; yet a remarkable Theologian, a crafty Statesman, a true Englishman. Often referred to in the literature of this time as “our Lord and Master.” Had England ever had such a Master! ever such a Lord of life and limb since? A character to the personal humouring and gratification of whom, such an one as Wolsey devoted his whole soul and directed all the powers of the State.

How necessary was so strong a ruler for our national disruption with Rome! It is not easy for us to realize what an amazingly difficult thing that wrench was. Moddys’ story witnesses to us of the King’s great perplexity. By what difficult disillusions, what slow and painful thoughtfulness did Henry’s mind travel from the Assertio of 1522 and the consequent Defensor fidei, to the destruction of the monasteries in 1536. Truly, if in this “passion” he vacillated or made mistakes; we may consider the inherent difficulty of disbelief in what – despite its increasing corruptions – had been the unbroken faith of this country for a thousand years.

We call the disillusionists, the Reformers; but Fish describes them as men of greate litterature and iudgement that for the love they haue vnto the trouth and vnto the comen welth haue not feared to put theim silf ynto the greatest infamie that may be, in abiection of all the world, ye[a] in perill of deth to declare theyre oppinion… p. 10.

Undoubtedly Henry personally was the secular Apostle of the first phase of our Reformation. The section of doctrinal Protestants was politically insignificant: and it may be fairly doubted whether the King could have carried the nation with him, but that in the experience of every intelligent Englishman, the cup of the iniquity of the priesthood was full to overflowing. He was aided by the strong general reaction of our simple humanity against the horrid sensuality, the scientific villany offered to it by the supposed special agents of Almighty GOD in the name of, and cloaked under the authority believed to have been given to them from the ever blessed Trinity.

Morality is the lowest expression of religion, the forerunner of faith. No religion can be of GOD which does not instinctively preassume in its votaries the constant striving after the highest and purest moral excellence. It is an intolerable matter, beyond all possible sufferance, when religion is made to pander to sensuality and extortion. How bitter a thing this was to this barrister of Gray’s Inn, may be seen in the strange terms of terror and ravin with which he characterizes these “strong, puissant, counterfeit holy, and idle beggars.” To the untravelled Englishman of Henry VIII’s reign, “cormorants” must have meant some like devouring griffins, and “locusts” as a ruthless irremediable and fearful plague without end. By such mental conceptions of utter desolation, impoverishment and misery does our Author express the bitterness of the then proved experience by Englishmen, of the combined hierarchy and monkery of Rome.

All which is for our consideration in estimating the necessity and policy of the subsequent suppression of the monasteries.

These representations are also some mitigation of what is sometimes thought to be the Protestant frenzy of our great Martyrologist, whose words of burning reprobation of the Papal system of his time seem often to us to be extravagant; because, by the good providence of GOD, we are hardly capable of realizing the widespread and scientific villany of the delusions and enormities against which he protested.

TO THE KING OVRE

souereygne lorde

Most lamentably compleyneth theyre wofull mysery vnto youre highnes youre poore daily bedemen the wretched hidous monstres (on whome scarcely for horror any yie dare loke) the foule vnhappy sorte of lepres, and other sore people, nedy, impotent, blinde, lame, and sike, that live onely by almesse, howe that theyre nombre is daily so sore encreased that all the almesse of all the weldisposed people of this youre realme is not halfe ynough for to susteine theim, but that for verey constreint they die for hunger. And this most pestilent mischief is comen vppon youre saide poore beedmen by the reason that there is yn the tymes of youre noble predecessours passed craftily crept ynto this your realme an other sort (not of impotent but) of strong puissaunt and counterfeit holy, and ydell beggers and vacabundes whiche syns the tyme of theyre first entre by all the craft and wilinesse of Satan are nowe encreased vnder your sight not onely into a great nombre, but also ynto a kingdome. These are (not the herdes, but the rauinous wolues going in herdes clothing deuouring the flocke) the Bisshoppes, Abbottes, Priours, Deacons, Archedeacons, Suffraganes, Prestes, Monkes Chanons, Freres, Pardoners and Somners. And who is abill to nombre this idell rauinous sort whiche (setting all laboure a side) haue begged so importunatly that they haue gotten ynto theyre hondes more then the therd part of all youre Realme. The goodliest lordshippes, maners, londes, and territories, are theyrs. Besides this they haue the tenth part of all the corne, medowe, pasture, grasse, wolle, coltes, calues, lambes, pigges, gese, and chikens. Ouer and bisides the tenth part of euery seruauntes wages the tenth part of the wolle, milke, hony, waxe, chese, and butter. Ye[a] and they loke so narowly vppon theyre proufittes that the poore wyues must be countable to theym of euery tenth eg or elles she gettith not her ryghtes at ester shalbe taken as an heretike. hereto haue they theire foure offering daies. whate money pull they yn by probates of testamentes, priuy tithes, and by mennes offeringes to theyre pilgremages, and at theyre first masses? Euery man and childe that is buried must pay sumwhat for masses and diriges to be song for him or elles they will accuse the de[a]des frendes and executours of heresie. whate money get they by mortuaries, by hearing of confessions (and yet they wil kepe therof no counceyle) by halowing of churches altares superaltares chapelles and belles, by cursing of men and absoluing theim agein for money? what a multitude of money gather the pardoners in a yere? Howe moche money get the Somners by extorcion yn a yere, by assityng the people to the commissaries court and afterward releasing th[e] apparaunce for money? Finally, the infinite nombre of begging freres whate get they yn a yere? Here if it please your grace to marke ye shall se a thing farre out of ioynt. There are withyn youre realme of Englond. lij. thousand parisshe churches. And this stonding that there be but tenne houshouldes yn euery parisshe yet are there fiue hundreth thousand and twenty thousand houshouldes. And of euery of these houshouldes hath euery of the fiue ordres of freres a peny a quarter for euery ordre, that is for all the fiue ordres fiue pens a quarter for every house. That is for all the fiue ordres. xx.d. a yere of euery house. Summa fiue hundreth thousand and twenty thousand quarters of angels.