No More Learning

Taken
to London and examined before Wolsey, he agreed to recant;
after this he was imprisoned for three years and then escaped to
Germany. The incident scattered the band of Cambridge scholars
and was a crisis in their history. It not only brought them into
disrepute, but lent bitterness to their words and writings.
When Barnes preached this celebrated sermon, he had ex-
changed pulpits with Latimer, who, although he had just been
inhibited by the bishop (West) of Ely, could still preach in the
exempt chapel of the Augustinian priory. The trouble caused
Latimer, also, to be called before Wolsey, who appreciated his
good qualities and his sound old-fashioned learning, and allowed
him to return to Cambridge with a general licence to preach, signed
a
by the cardinal himself. The incident shows the attitude taken
by those in high authority towards reform; but the bitterness of
preachers like Barnes and the scurrility of some pamphleteers
made it hard to maintain this attitude. Up to this time, the move-
ment in England had been mainly based on learning and was
distinctly English. In spite of the names of Lutherans and
Germans loosely given to them, and of their sympathy for German
writers, these Englishmen, as yet, owed little to foreign influence.
But increasing intercourse gradually brought about a closer unity
of opinion : few English theologians became Lutherans, but some
became Zwinglians and others Calvinists. Latimer, however, may
be taken as representing the earlier and more characteristic stage
of the movement. He attacked specially those abuses which
Erasmus had satirised-indulgences, pilgrimages, veneration of
images ; upon the positive side, he laid stress upon the life and
example of Christ, and held up a high ideal of conduct. But he
did not move of his own accord to any revolutionary conception
a


## p. 38 (#60) ##############################################

38
Reformation Literature in England
of the church, to any assertion of individual liberty, or to an
attack upon the doctrine of the sacraments, although that was
the central topic of his examination at his trial (1555). Even
then, however, he leaned mainly upon Cranmer's book, and con-
fessed that he had only been of his final opinion for some seven
years.
His boldness during the trial, and his determination, both
for himself and in inspiring others, was a strange contrast to the
timidity of some of his earlier Cambridge friends. His arguments
were, however, less forceful than his example: he referred again
and again to 'my lord of Canterbury's book' for proof of his
assertions; and discussion of the one subject—that of the pope's
supremacy-upon which he would have liked to enlarge, was
refused him. The Conferences between him and Ridley (published
in 1556) give a pathetic picture of their imprisonment.
The number of the criers under the altar' must needs be fulfilled.
Pardon me and pray for me: pray for me, I say: pray for me, I say. For
I am sometimes so fearful, that I would creep into a mousehole; sometimes
God doth visit me again with His comfort. So He cometh and goeth, to teach
me to feel and to know mine infirmity, to the intent to give thanks to Him
that is worthy, lest I should rob Him of His duty, as many do. Fare
-
you well.
These were his words to Ridley. To another prisoner, wavering
in the peril of death, he wrote:
If any man perceive his faith not to abide the fire, let such an one with
weeping buy his liberty, until he hath obtained more strength, lest the gospel
by him sustain an offence of some shameful recantation. Let the dead bury
their dead. Let us that be of the lively faith follow the Lamb wheresoever
He goeth.
Clearly those were not mistaken who had seen in the great
preacher an underlying strength of manliness, inspired by piety,
as the foundation of his character.
The power of a preacher is hard to estimate, for much of it
vanishes with the day itself. But the characteristics that draw us,
even yet, to Latimer's sermons had their attraction then also. The
homely anecdotes, the touches illustrative of social manners and
habits, are valuable for us historically : at the time of their
delivery they gave the sermons vividness and special force.
Honesty and fearlessness, directness of appeal and allusions to
matters of the day, showed the preacher's contact with life.
They showed, moreover, how far he had departed from the previous
conventionalities of the pulpit; almost the only trace of them is
the frequent use (seen, also, in Longland's sermons) of Latin words


## p. 39 (#61) ##############################################

Sermons
39
that, to us, in no way deepen the impression. It was the nature of
the man that spoke through all these things, and, because he was
natural above all else, because he revealed himself to hearers
whose natures he laid hold of by instinct, he gained great power.
But minor points were not neglected : repetition, intolerable in
writings, but declared, by masters of preaching, to be necessary
in sermons meant for instruction, was a frequent feature. He
grasped the attention, sometimes by what have been called
'antics,' and then he searched the conscience and touched the
heart. It was an age that sought instruction, and he compelled
it to listen. It would be hard to find sermons anywhere that show
so plainly as do his the true relation between preacher and con-
gregation. There was nothing in them of art, but there was the
sense of a message driven home with sympathy and love. He
preached because he must: the sermon was his natural expression.
There had been nothing of the kind in English before ; and not
many years had passed before the technical scholastics of
puritanism, the search after conceits of imagination and ex-
pression, made sermons such as his impossible.
A commission to investigate heretical books, upon which Latimer
served, had been appointed (1530). Some restrictions were con-
sidered needful, but evasions of authoritative regulations were
common : church and state had a common interest in checking the
heresy and sedition which, often expressed with scurrility, was their
common enemy. The control or licensing of books was, as a rule,
assigned to the bishops; but the universities, not only in England
but, also, on the continent, had been often appealed to. Henry
(6 May 1530) summoned representatives of both universities to
meet and examine suspected books. Their labours ended (24 May)
in the condemnation of many works; some old, such as the writings
of Wyclif and Hus, some new, such as those of Luther, Zwingli,
Fish, Joye and Tindale. The Parable of the Wicked Mammon,
The Obedience of a Christian Man, The Revelation of Anti-Christ
and The Sum of Scripture were writings of Tindale and his school
which produced great effect.
William Tindale is, to us, above all the translator of the
Scriptures, but, to his own age, he was probably at least as much
the theological pamphleteer. Of his early life, nothing is really
known. He was born, probably about 1484, in Gloucestershire, and
went to Oxford, where, under the name of Hichyns, he took his
MA. degree in 1515. He spent some time afterwards in Cambridge,
and, about 1520, went as private tutor to Little Sodbury, in his
>


## p. 40 (#62) ##############################################

40 Reformation Literature in England
native county. It was here that he formed his great design of
translating the Bible into English, and the need of such a work was
impressed upon him while preaching to the country people. His
preaching in the villages and in Bristol first brought him into
collision with the church authorities. He had to appear before
the diocesan chancellor; but of the result of his summons-pro-
bably unimportant-nothing is known with certainty. Before long,
Tindale went up to London with the special object of gaining pro-
tection for his work of translation (1523). From Tunstall, bishop of
London, he received little encouragement; but Humphry Mon-
mouth, an alderman and merchant, gave him shelter and friend-
ship. Gradually, Tindale came to think that there was no place
in England for his purpose, and he crossed over to Hamburg (1524).
It was possible to print books abroad and send them into England
by an evasion of the existing regulations; and the secret
association of the Christian Brethren, who existed for the spread
of this suspected literature, was specially active in East Anglia,
in London and in other seaports. In Germany, Tindale came into
contact with others who, for reasons as good as, or better than, his
own, had left England; among these were William Roy, George
Joye (with both of whom he afterwards quarrelled) and John Frith.
Pamphlets which troubled the government became more numerous
in England after Tindale's arrival on the continent; and yet, while
their seizure was ordered, the king was reading them with pleasure.
Tindale's theological opinions had, by this time, gone far beyond
those of his original master, Erasmus, and he put them forth with
confidence: he was now opposed to all ceremonies that were
not perfectly understood; he questioned confirmation and baptism
with arguments which were often expressed disrespectfully and some-
times irreverently; while his insistence upon the need of faith alone
was accompanied by a dangerous depreciation of all good works.
Some bitterness of expression may be allowed men who fear for
their lives or are chafing under abuses they cannot remove, but the
language of some pamphlets of the day passed all such allowance.
Joye was even more violent than Tindale, whom More styled 'the
captain of our English heretics'; but there were some who, like
John Frith, argued out great issues in a becoming way. Frith's
Disputation of Purgatory and The Supper of the Lord, which
presented the Zwinglian view, led to controversy with Rastell and
More. He first began the lengthy sacramental controversy, but the
characteristic of his teaching was the assertion that purgatory and
transubstantiation should be left open questions. This toleranco


## p. 41 (#63) ##############################################

William Tindale
41
was impressed upon him by Tindale, whose associations with Mar-
burg may have suggested to him the need of comprehensiveness.
His advice to Frith, that he should go on preaching ‘until the matter
might be reasoned in peace at leisure of both parties,' was based
upon expediency, but Frith soon raised the principle to a point of
conscience. The Articles whereof John Frith died show us a
writer and a martyr (1533) far above most theologians of the day in
dignity and breadth. But Tindale's orders to him, that he should
‘ever among thrust in that the Scripture may be in the mother-
tongue and learning set up in the universities,' taken together with
his letters to others, show the former as the leader of a wide-spread
movement, directed by him with energy and zeal, but not always
with knowledge or self-restraint. The typical misunderstanding
of Wolsey displayed in The Practice of Prelates marks Tindale's
limitations and defects. He was a scholar with something of a
scholar's self-seclusion and ignorance of the world, and he is not
the only scholar who, in writing upon theology or politics, has
failed to calculate the effect of his language upon others. Further-
more, the circumstances of his life were unfavourable to his
disposition. Publishers, like Froben at Basel, kept scholars, like
Erasmus and Beatus Rhenanus, at work upon profitable tasks ;
the element of commercial speculation entered into all literary
work; and thus, around Tindale with his great aim, were grouped
others less lofty in mind and chiefly intent upon gain. His asso-
ciates were often undesirable ; his own absorption in his task and
his curious love of self-assertion both tended to make him somewhat
peevish in his dealings; and thus, partly because of himself, partly
because of his friends, the story of his adventures abroad is a
depressing one. The violence of these writers, the deceitful and
underhand means by which they gained their influence, sometimes
their treachery to each other, were certain to bring disaster upon
themselves and others, and deprive them of much of the sympathy
which might otherwise be theirs. But the main effect of Tindale's
writings was to urge the private appeal to the sole authority of
Scripture, secured by the unlimited power of the king, with his full
power of reforming the church. Such teaching made him a useful
ally to Henry VIII, and led to his being secretly encouraged.
But his strong condemnation of Henry's divorce, creditable to him
as it was, lessened his usefulness in Henry's eyes.
It is a relief to turn from the pamphlets to Tindale's Biblical
translation. His scholarship was adequate and he was not de-
pendent upon the Vulyate alone; his exposition of his methods-


## p. 42 (#64) ##############################################

42 Reformation Literature in England
like his love of the Scriptures, possibly derived from Erasmus-
magnifies his conception of his task and its importance; he
followed previous translators worthily, but with better weapons ;
and the improved style of his revised edition is, in itself, a testimony
to his fitness for the work he undertook. It is impossible and
unnecessary to follow his enforced travels closely; from Hamburg
he passed (1525) to Cologne, and here the great scholar
Cochlaeus frustrated his work. Tindale just contrived to escape
to Worms, saving some sheets already printed. St Matthew
and St Mark had already appeared separately, and now two
editions of the New Testament in quarto and octavo, the former
with prologue and glosses, were sent to England. The authorities
were on the alert, and lists of prohibited books had been
issued; but, in spite of this, a change of opinion was slowly
coming.
Latimer joined his fellow commissioners (1530) in deprecating
the publication of an English version ; a letter to the king
(December 1530) urging it has been wrongly ascribed to him.
The scheme had been mooted long before, but archbishop Arundel's
measures had put it off, and there were, of course, difficulties in
the way. The king, in 1530, had hinted at the possibility of its
realisation in the future, and convocation, in 1534, asked the king
to appoint translators. But private enterprise, which did not
stop to weigh conflicting dangers, "prevented' the government
in the matter.
It was to the glosses in Tindale's Testament that most ob-
jection was raised. His own theological views were extreme;
convocation objected to his substitution of the words 'con-
gregation,' elder' and 'penitence' for 'church,' 'priest' and
penance’; and the glosses often conveyed extreme views in a
petty form. To this, exception was, not unnaturally, taken. Lee,
the old antagonist of Erasmus, urged the king to take steps against
the introduction of such translations, and it is curious to notice
that he assumes the English Bible itself to be prohibited. Tunstall
preached against it and Henry decided that it should be ‘brenned'
(1527). But, in spite of the measures that were taken and the
copies that were bought up, prohibition proved a failure. New
editions were multiplied; the majority of English theologians were
changing their views; an appeal to Scripture against their papal
antagonists was gaining force; and, lastly, the king, especially in
the days of Cromwell,' saw some advantage to be gained from the
forces he had tried to suppress. Bishop Nix of Norwich was not
6


## p. 43 (#65) ##############################################

The Bible in English
43
the only one who thought that the king favoured 'arroneous
boks' (1530).
Other editions of Tindale's New Testament--one, of a poor
character, pirated by his former helper George Joye-appeared,
and (November 1534) Tindale published a revised edition of his
own, to which he added not only slight marginal notes, but also those
epistles in the Sarum use which came from the Old Testament or
the Apocrypha. In the very year that Tindale was put to death
(1536), an edition was printed in England. After many wander-
ings, to Marburg, to Hamburg and, finally, to Antwerp, he was
treacherously seized (May 1535), not by English contrivance, and
put to death at Vilvorde (6 October 1536). But his work was
already done; copies of the New Testament, either his or founded
upon his, were common, and he had made more than a beginning
with the Old Testament; he had, moreover, fixed the character of
the English translations for evermore. Instinctively he, like many
writers or preachers of his day, had expressed himself in the
popular style, not in the larger phrase affected by scholars, and,
in that style, the Bible remained.
Miles Coverdale, afterwards bishop of Exeter, although in-
ferior to Tindale in scholarship, was at least as closely connected
with the English version. A Yorkshireman by birth, he became
an Augustinian friar at Cambridge, where he had formed one of the
band of reformers, and had been naturally influenced by his prior,
Barnes; he had also early connections with Sir Thomas More and
Thomas Cromwell. He soon left England, however, and probably
(1529) met Tindale abroad. Not only did he thus enter the
circle of translators, but he was urged by Cromwell to print an
edition of his own, about which much correspondence took place
between Cromwell and the editors and printers. The work, when
it appeared (1535), was said to be translated from the Dutch
(i. e. German) and Latin, and not to be for the maintenance of
any sect; Coverdale recognised the previous labours of others,
which he had, indeed, largely used, and he drew upon the Zurich
Bible as well as upon Tindale's editions. He dedicated his work to
Henry VIII, in the hope of receiving royal patronage, if not a royal
licence; but this was not formally given. Cromwell's injunction
(1536) that the Bible, in Latin and English, should be placed in
churches was, doubtless, meant to refer to this edition, but the
order was ineffective. Convocation, however, soon asked again
for a new translation, and the second edition of Coverdale's work
-published (1537) both in folio and quarto, and the first Bible


## p. 44 (#66) ##############################################

44 Reformation Literature in England
printed in England-was licensed by the king. The edition of
1535, printed, probably, by Froschover at Zurich, had also been the
first complete English Bible printed Tindale had translated the
Pentateuch, Jonah and some detached pieces, and may have left
more in MS, but Coverdale now translated the whole. He did
not claim any extensive scholarship, and his description of his
work is modest; but his pains, nevertheless, had been great, and
the prayer-book Psalter, still reminding us of his work, speaks of
its literary merits to all.
The history of the English Bible had thus moved quickly; but
the publicity, which Coverdale, perhaps even above Tindale, had
aimed at, was gained even more largely by another edition. Thomas
Matthew, or, rather, John Rogers, to give him his real name, formed
another Bible by a combination of Tindale's Old Testament so far
as it went and Coverdale's—the Apocrypha being included. This
was printed abroad by R. Grafton (who was a fellow-worker with
Coverdale) and T. Whitchurch (1537). It is usually thought that,
in parts up to 2 Chronicles, where this edition differs from
Coverdale's, it is indebted to remains left by Tindale, to which
Rogers, Tindale's former assistant, probably had access. It was
dedicated to Henry VIII, and Cranmer, who liked it better than
all previous translations, was able to befriend it. The king gave
leave for its sale, and thus it took a place not publicly gained
before ; its many notes, too, found it favour or disfavour according
to the reader's opinions.
Coverdale began to prepare a new edition, for which he went
abroad in the Lent of 1538; but, as the inquisition forbade its being
printed in Paris, it was partly printed (1539) in England, after it
(September 1538) had been ordered for use in churches. This
edition is known as the Great Bible. Again, Coverdale's labours
had turned more to other versions than to the text, and he had
availed himself of some new continental versions. A second edition
of it (April 1540) appeared with a preface by Cranmer, who saw,
in an English Bible formally approved, his own great hope ful-
filled; and this edition, therefore, became known as Cranmer's Bible,
although he had done nothing for it beyond writing the preface.
Then, at last, the English Bible was set up in churches (May 1540)
and was in general use both public and private.
One more edition of the New Testament, significant from the
place of its appearance, and destined from its doctrinal bias to be
widely popular, was the Genevan New Testament of William
Whittingham (1557), who had married a sister of Calvin's wife,


## p. 45 (#67) ##############################################

The Great Bible. Hymns 45
and succeeded John Knox as English pastor at Geneva. The
text was founded upon previous English versions, but Beza's Latin
version, the rival of the Vulgate, was also used. The whole Bible
appeared at Geneva (1560) with a dedication to queen Elizabeth
and with more apparatus than had hitherto been added, the text
being due to Whittingham, helped by Anthony Gilby and Thomas
Sampson. As they were, respectively, the first Testament and
Bible printed with verse-divisions and in roman type, they mark a
distinct stage.
Convocation, the authority of which had been sometimes
pushed aside, was not wholly satisfied with the Great Bible, and
(1542) sought a revision of it by the Vulgate, but, although parts
were assigned to various translators, nothing came of the proposal.
Under Elizabeth, and upon the initiative of archbishop Parker,
the Bishops' Bible was issued (1568); but, in the end, it was
superseded by the Authorised Version (1611) prepared after the
Hampton Court conference!
It should be noted that these Bibles varied in their treatment
of the Apocrypha: Coverdale's, Matthew's and the Genevan Bible,
following continental protestant usage, differentiated it from the
Old Testament, and, after 1629, when we have the first example,
editions of Bibles without the Apocrypha became common. Apart
from any critical or theological views supposed to be involved,
this omission was a serious literary loss, which is now being more
understood.
It may seem curious that, with this activity in producing
English versions, little was thought or said of the earliest English
versions. They seem to have had but little effect, although one
exception must be noted, in the Scots New Testament of Murdoch
Nisbet (c. 1520). This was based upon Purvey's version, although
the earlier Wyclifite version may, also, have been used: the
adaptation of Luther's preface to the New Testament (1522), and
the later addition of Tindale's prologue to Romans, indicate the
use of these editions after the work had been begun. Nisbet
belonged to Ayrshire, and had come under the influence of the
Lollards of that district. He had not only been a fugitive for his
religion, but, after his return home, had lived many years in hiding.
His translation had, doubtless, been made for a help in his own
ministry, but the importation into Scotland of Tindale's translation
1 The position of the Authorised Version in English literature is discussed in a later
chapter of the present work.
1


## p. 46 (#68) ##############################################

46
Reformation Literature in England
checked its use and so possibly prevented the publication of a
linguistically and historically interesting version.
One further result of the liturgical changes and the growing use
of the vulgar tongue calls for mention. The hymns in the daily
offices had always been popular, and the tendency to replace them
by English substitutes was natural and strong. The best example
of devotional poetry was to be found in the Psalms, and, when re-
ligious and poetic interests were warmly felt, a rendering of the
Psalms into English verse seemed a happy method of stirring up
religious zeal. Clément Marot had set French psalms to popular
tunes for the French court under Francis I; Calvin, whom many
generations of puritans followed, kept Marot's words, although he
rejected his tunes. An English courtier and poet attempted a
like task in England. Thomas Sternhold, a Hampshire gentleman
educated at Oxford, became groom of the robes to Henry VIII.
He was in trouble for his religious views (1543), but kept his favour
at court, and was there at a time when English was being largely
used in Edward VI's chapel royal. Thinking to turn the minds
of the nobles to higher things, he put some psalms into verse
and (1548), a year before his death, published nineteen of them
under the title of Certayne Psalms. A year later, John Hopkins,
a clergyman of Suffolk, published thirty-seven psalms by Stern-
hold, with seven of his own. In later editions, he increased the
number, and (1562) The Whole Booke of Psalmes by Sternhold,
Hopkins, Thos. Norton and others, appeared in verse, and was
added to the prayer-book. Not only was this done, but melodies,
some of which are still in popular use, were also printed. Suc-
cessive editions show traces of German influence, and a formidable
rival appeared in the Genevan Psalter, due to Whittingham,
Kethe and others. Its history is much like that of the older English
version, with which it has much in common: fifty-one psalms
were printed (1556) together with the form of prayer used by the
English exiles, and, in later editions, more were added. The
influence of Marot and Beza could be traced in it, and so re-
appears in its descendant, the Scots Psalter (1564). The growth
of Calvinism made these versions more popular than that of
Sternhold, but his compositions, which are marked by a concise
and natural simplicity, are easy to distinguish. Metrical psalmody
was in the air, and many writers, including archbishop Parker
(c. 1555), tried their hands at it. Its popularity grew, but the
growing separation between religion and all kinds of art, which
marked the seventeenth century, lowered the literary quality of


## p. 47 (#69) ##############################################

Summary
47
later editions. These earlier versions had been, however, deservedly
popular, and opened a new channel for religious fervour. Their
merits and their religious influence must not be judged by their
later successors. They belonged to a time when religious feeling
and literary taste were at a higher level, and they did something
to replace a favourite part of the older service-books.
A general survey of the field teaches us how varied the religious
impulses of the reformation were, and how vital they were for the
national welfare, both upon their positive and negative sides.
Party feeling and royal politics made the course of the move-
ment sometimes slower, sometimes tumultuous. One change may
be noted. In the lists of early printed books, a number of
medieval manuals of devotion and instruction precede the con-
troversial writings. At first, as in the Middle Ages, schools conceal
individuals, the same material is re-used and authorship is difficult
to settle. But, as in the cases of More and Tindale, the weight of
well known names begins to be felt, and the printing press, fixing
once for all the very words of a writer, put an end to processes which
had often hidden authorship. The needs of controversy hastened
the change, and individualism in literature began. An author was
now face to face with his public. It is trite to call the reformation
an age of transition, and its significance for creative thought is
sometimes over-estimated. But, at its outset, the problems of its
literature, its methods and its processes are medieval; at its end,
they are those which we know to-day. If, in Germany, the
revolution was heralded by medieval theses, in England, the
reformation controversies sprang out of a literature purely medie-
val. But, at the close of the period we have dealt with, the
translation of an English Bible, the formation of an English
prayer-book, stand out as great religious and literary results, and
each of them is due less to individual labourers than to the
continuous work of schools. There may have been many who
regretted much that had been lost; but to have preserved and
adapted so much was no mean gain. Many of the absorbing
controversies died away; but these results, which they had helped
to produce, remained.


## p. 48 (#70) ##############################################

CHAPTER III
THE DISSOLUTION OF THE RELIGIOUS HOUSES
THE general wave of new thought breaking upon England in
the first half of the sixteenth century swept away with it, among
other things, the almost countless religious houses with which
the country was covered. Their disappearance is more significant
considered as an effect than as a cause; yet it cannot be
doubted that, in its turn, it had an effect, both for good and for
evil, on the movement in which it was an incident. And first let
the losses to learning be estimated.
The destruction of books was almost incredibly enormous. Bale
describes the use of them by bookbinders and by grocers and
merchants for the packing of their goods. Maskell calculates the
loss of liturgical books alone to have approached the total of a
quarter of a million. An eye-witness describes the leaves of Duns
Scotus as blown about by the wind even in the courts of Oxford,
and their use for sporting and other purposes. Libraries that had
been collected through centuries, such as those of Christ Church and
St Albans, both classical and theological, vanished in a moment.
It was not only the studious orders that gathered books; the
friars, also, had libraries, though, as Leland relates of the Oxford
Franciscans, they did not always know how to look after them.
So late as 1535, a bequest was made by the bishop of St Asaph
of five marks to buy books for the Grey Friars of Oxford. Nor
can it be doubted that vast numbers of books less directly
theological must have perished.
A second destruction was that of the homes of study which the
religious houses, especially those of the Benedictines, provided for
all who leaned that way. The classical renascence had not yet
made sufficient way, except among the more advanced, to disturb
the old system by which it was natural for the studious to enter
the cloister and the rest to remain men of sport or war. The use
of the word 'clerk'as denoting a man of education, apart from the


## p. 49 (#71) ##############################################

Destruction of Opportunities for Study 49
question as to whether he were tonsured or not, indicates this
tendency. Even Erasmus, it must be remembered, was once an
Augustinian. Closely allied to the disappearance of this aid to
learning was that of the influence of tradition which, if it held
thinkers within narrow bounds, at the same time saved them the
waste of energy that is the inevitable accompaniment of all new
enterprise. There is abundant evidence to show that the religious
houses were so used; at Durham, Gloucester and Canterbury, for
example, there remain traces or records of the provision for
making books accessible and for accommodating their readers;
and the details of the life of Erasmus, as well as those of the
life of Thomas More, show that the most advanced scholars
of the age numbered among their equals and competent critics
the students of the cloister. Such a man was prior Charnock
of Oxford, Bere, abbot of Glastonbury, and Warham, archbishop
of Canterbury. Further, it must be remembered, not only were
monastic houses in themselves homes of study, but, from their
religious unity with the continent, they afforded means of com-
munication with scholars abroad. Not only were the great houses
the natural centres to which scholars came, but from them there
went out to the foreign universities of Bologna and Pisa such
religious as were in any sense specialists. This, of course, practi-
cally ceased, not only because of the religious change, but because
there were no longer rich corporations who could afford to send
their promising pupils abroad. The proverbial poverty of scholars
had, to a large extent, been mitigated by this provision. The
lives of such men as Richard Pace show that among the
religious were to be found generous patrons as well as professors
of learning.
Next must be reckoned the direct and indirect loss to the
education of children. To a vast number of religious houses, both
of monks and nuns, were attached schools in which the children
of both poor and rich received instruction. Richard Whiting, for
example, the last abbot of Glastonbury, numbered among his
'family' three hundred boys whom he educated, supporting, be-
sides, students at the university. Every great abbey, practically,
was the centre of education for all the country round; even the
Benedictine nuns kept schools attended by children of gentle birth,
and, except in those rare cases where scholarly parents themselves
supervised the education of their children, it may be said that, for
girls, these were the only available teachers of even the simplest
elements of learning. The grammar schools, which are popularly
4
E. L. III.
CU. III.


## p. 50 (#72) ##############################################

50 The Dissolution of the Religious Houses
supposed to have sprouted in such profusion under Edward VI,
may be held to have been, in nearly every case, remnants of the
old monastic foundations, and, even so, were not one tithe of those
which had previously existed. The rest fell with the monasteries,
and, even in places of considerable importance, as at Evesham,
practically no substitute was provided until nearly a century later.
Signs of this decay of learning may be found to some extent in the
records of the universities. The houses fell, for the most part,
about the year 1538, but they had been seriously threatened for
three or four years previously; and the effect may be seen in the
fact that, at Oxford, in 1535, one hundred and eight men graduated,
while, in 1536, only forty-four did so. Up to the end of Henry's
reign, the average was but fifty-seven, in Edward's, thirty-three,
while, during the revival of the old thought under Mary, it rose
again as high as seventy. The decrease of students at Cambridge
was not at first so formidable. This was natural, since that uni-
versity was far more in sympathy with the new ideas than was
her sister. But, ten years after the dissolution, a serious decrease
showed itself. Fuller reports 'a general decay of students, no
college having more scholars therein than hardly those of the
foundation, no volunteers at all and only persons pressed in a
manner by their places to reside. ' He traces this directly to the
fall of the religious houses. “Indeed, at the fall of the abbeys
fell the hearts of all scholars, fearing the ruin of learning. And
those their jealousies they humbly represented in a bemoaning
letter to king Henry VIII. ' The king, whose dislike of the old
canon law had abolished the degrees in that faculty, so that
Gratian fared no better. . . than his brother Peter Lombard,' took
steps to amend all this by the creation of Regius professors in
Divinity, Law, Hebrew and Greek; but it was not until Mary was
on the throne that the number of degrees taken yearly at Cam-
bridge rose, once more, to their former minimum of eighty. Other
details of the steps that Henry had taken to secure sound learning
at Cambridge, shortly before the fall of the houses, while the
university was yet very full of students,' will be found suggestive.
Thus, scholars are urged in his injunctions to the study of tongues,'
of Aristotle, Rodolphus Agricola, Melanchthon and Trapezuntius,
while Scotus, Burleus, Anthony Trombet, Bricot and Bruliferius
are forbidden.
Other causes, no doubt, contributed to the decrease of scholar-
ship; the unrest of the age was largely inimical to serious study;
but among these causes must be reckoned a further and more direct


## p. 51 (#73) ##############################################

New Methods of Thought 51
relation in which the monasteries stood towards the universities.
At both Oxford and Cambridge were large establishments to which
monks and friars came to finish their education; and, of these
scholars, the numbers were so large that, in the century previous
to the reformation, one in nine of all graduates seems to have
been a religious. At Oxford, the Benedictines alone had four
colleges, the Augustinians two and the Cistercians one. All this,
then, after the first rush of the disbanded religious to Oxford,
stopped with the dissolution, and the universities began to empty.
In two years of Edward's reign, no student at all graduated at
Oxford; in 1550, Latimer, a fierce advocate of the new movement,
laments the fact that there seem'ten thousand less students than
within the last twenty years,' and remarks that “it would pity a
man's heart to hear that I hear of the state of Cambridge’; in
Mary's reign, Roger Edgworth pleads for the poor students who
have grievously suffered from the recent changes; the study of
Greek, on Thomas Pope's evidence, had almost ceased to exist;
Anthony Wood mourns over the record of the decline of the arts
and the revival of ignorance; Edward VI rebukes the unscholarli-
ness of his own bishops.
The estimation of the gain to learning and letters which
followed the fall of the monasteries is more difficult to summarise,
since the beginning of a new growth cannot be expected to pro-
duce the fruit of a mature tree. The effects must be more subtle
and intangible, yet none the less real. And, even could it be
accurately gauged by statistics, it would be impossible to place
one against the other. We cannot set a pear and a peach in
the same category. 'It is generally believed,' remarks Warton,
'that the reformation of religion in England. . . was immediately
succeeded by a flourishing state of letters. But this was by no
means the case. '
First, however, it may be stated confidently, that the breaking
up of the old ground and the planting of it with new roots brings
with it at least as much gain as loss. The scholastic method had
done its work. From much concurrent testimony it is evident
that there was no more progress to be made, at any rate for the
present, along those lines. The deductive method was to yield
more and more to the inductive; the rubbish generated by every
system of thought carried to extremities must be swept away, and
new principles enunciated. Against this inevitable movement, the
religious houses, also inevitably, were the most formidable obstacle,
since they focussed and protected a method of thought of which
4-2


## p. 52 (#74) ##############################################

52 The Dissolution of the Religious Houses
the learned world was growing weary. The old principles certainly
had led up to fantastic conclusions and innumerable culs-de-sac in
philosophy and science-conclusions which eminent men of the
old party deplored as emphatically as their enemies. Sir Thomas
More, who died in defence of the old faith, Erasmus, who clung
as firmly as his friend to what he believed to be the divinely
revealed centre of truth, and many others, protested as loudly as
Latimer himself, and almost as contemptuously as Skelton, against
the follies to which real learning had descended. With the fall of
the monasteries, therefore, the strongholds of academic method
were, for the time, shattered.
In the place of tradition, then, rose up enterprise. The same
impulse of new life which drove Drake across the seas forty years
later and burned in full blaze in the society of the brilliant
Elizabethans, had begun to kindle, indeed, before the dissolution
of the houses, but could not rise into flame until it had consumed
them. In the world of letters it broke out in curious forms, show-
ing a strange intermingling of the old and the new, few of them
of intrinsic value and fewer yet, in any sense, final—always with the
exception of the great leaders of humanist thought.
And the rich development that took place was furthered by
the movement in which the fall of the religiou houses was a
notable incident. They were obstacles, and they were removed.
The monastic ideal was one of pruning the tree to the loss of
luxuriance; the new ideal was that of more generous cultivation
of the whole of human nature.
As regards education, although, as has been seen, the years
immediately following the crisis were years of famine-of destruc-
tion rather than reconstruction—they were, at the same time, the
almost necessary prelude to greater wideness of thought. It was
not until three centuries later that the state, as distinguished
from the church, took the responsibilities of education-for both
schools and universities continued to remain, until nearly the
present day, under clerical control—but, so soon as the confusion
had passed, education did, to some extent, begin to recover its
balance on a new basis. What had been, under the system of
great monastic centres, the province of the more studious, began,
more and more, to be diffused among the rest, or, at least, to be
put into more favourable conditions for that dissemination. The
fortunes of Greek scholarship show a curiously waving line. That
branch of study was introduced, together with Greek manuscripts,
by scholars such as prior William Tilly of Selling, who had become


## p. 53 (#75) ##############################################

>
6
New Channels of Intercourse 53
fascinated by Italian culture; but, with the general uprush of the
classical renascence, it fell once more under suspicion and the pulpit
began to be turned against it. With the fall of the monasteries,
however, curiously enough, it nearly disappeared altogether—for
example, at Oxford, though Wolsey himself had founded a chair
for its study—and it was not until things were quiet that it
again took its place among its fellows, and is to be found generally
recommended for grammar schools along with the arts of 'good
manners,' Latin, English, history, writing and even chess. Classics
indeed, generally, when the confusion was over, found a fairer
field than had been possible under clerical control. Pure Latin
was, to a large extent, vitiated by its ecclesiastical rival; and
Greek was associated vaguely in men’s minds with the principles
of Luther and the suspected new translations of the Scriptures,
in spite of Fisher’s zeal for its study at Cambridge, and the return
of Wakefield from Tübingen in the same cause. "Graeculus,' in
fact, had become a colloquial synonym for 'heretic'; and both
languages, as represented by such authors as Terence, Plautus
and the Greek poets, were under grave suspicions as being vehicles
for immoral sentiments. It is true that such men as prior Barnes
lectured on Latin authors in his Augustinian house at Cambridge,
yet it was not until a few years after the dissolution that even
the classical historians began to be translated into English. Friars
were reported actually to have destroyed books that in their
opinion were harmful or even useless.
Another gain that compensated for the loss of the old kind
of intercourse with Italy was, undoubtedly, to be found in the
new connections of England with northern Europe as well as with
the vigorous life of renascence Italy. The coming of such men
as Bucer and Fagius to Cambridge at the invitation of the king,
and a flood of others later, the intercourse with Geneva and Zurich,
culminating in Mary's reign-these channels could hardly have
been opened thus freely under the old conditions; and if this
exchange of ideas was primarily on theological subjects, yet it was
not to the exclusion of others. So long as the religious houses
preserved their prestige in the country at large and in the
universities in particular, every new idea or system that was
antagonistic to their ideals had a weight of popular distrust to
contend against: the average Englishman saw that ecclesiastics
held the field, he heard tales of vast monastic libraries and of
monkish prodigies of learning, he listened to pulpit thunderings
and scholastic disputations, while all that came from Germany


## p. 54 (#76) ##############################################

54 The Dissolution of the Religious Houses
and the Low Countries was represented by single men who held
no office and won but little hearing. When the houses were down
and their prestige shattered, it was but between man and man
that he had to decide.
And, further, in a yet more subtle way, the dissolution actually
contributed to the prestige of the new methods of thought under
whose predominance the fall had taken place and, under Elizabeth,
these new methods were enforced with at least as much state
pressure as the old system had enjoyed. There were, of course,
other causes for the destruction—the affairs of the king, both
domestic and political, religious differences, the bait of the houses’
wealth-all these things conspired to weigh the balances down and
to accomplish in England the iconoclasm which the renascence did
not accomplish in southern Europe. It can hardly be said that the
superior culture in England demanded a sacrifice which Italy did
not demand; but, rather, that it found here a peculiar collocation of
circumstances and produced, therefore, peculiar results. Yet in
men's minds the revival of learning and the fall of the monasteries
were inextricably associated; and the enthusiasm of Elizabeth's
reign, with its countless achievements in art and literature and
general effectiveness, was certainly enhanced by the memory of
that with which the movement of thirty years before had been
busily linked. Great things had been accomplished under a Tudor,
an insular independence unheard of in the history of the country
had been established; there were no limits then, it seemed, to
what might be effected in the future. The triumphant tone in
Elizabethan writers is, surely, partly traceable to this line of
thought—they are full of an enthusiasm of freedom-and, in
numberless passages, Shakespeare's plays served to keep the
thought alight.
It can scarcely be reckoned as a gain that the dispersal of the
libraries took place, except in one definite point, for it has been
seen in what manner the books were usually treated. This gain was
the founding of the school of English antiquaries under John Leland",
and the concentration in their hands of certain kinds of manu-
scripts that, practically, had no existence except in the recesses
of monastic libraries. In 1533, this priest was appointed king's
antiquary. It was his office 'to peruse the libraries of all cathedrals,
abbeys, colleges, etc. ,' no doubt with a view to the coming dissolu-
tion; but for six years he travelled, and claims to have conserved
many good authors, the which otherwise had been like to have
See post, chap. xv.
a


## p. 55 (#77) ##############################################

>
.
Antiquarian Study
55
perished, of the which part remain' in the royal libraries. That
there was a slight degree of truth in this implied reproach we
have already seen; and it is certain that access was now made
possible to many copies of English and classical authors, the loss
of which might have occurred under monastic complacency, and
certainly would have occurred under reforming zeal. 'In turning
over of the superstitious monasteries,' says Bale, Leland's friend and
editor, ‘little respect was had to their libraries. ' Others followed
Leland in his care for antiquities of literature and history. Matthew
Parker, says Josselin his secretary, 'was very careful to seek out
the monuments of former times. . . . Therefore in seeking up the
chronicles of the Britons and English Saxons, which lay hidden
everywhere, contemned and buried in forgetfulness,' as well as in
editing and publishing them, Parker and his assistants did a good
work which had scarcely been possible under the old system.
Josselin himself helped, and Sir Robert Cotton's collection of Saxon
charters and other manuscripts is one of the great founts of English
history.
It is impossible, then, with any degree of justice, to set the gains
and the losses, resultant from the dissolution, in parallel columns.
The former were subtle, far-reaching, immature; the latter were
concrete, verifiable and sentimental. Rather, until some definition
of progress be agreed upon by all men, we are only safe in saying
that, from the purely intellectual side, while the injury to the
education of those who lived at the time, and the loss of in-
numerable books, antiquities and traditions for all time, are
lamentable beyond controversy, yet, by the diffusion of general
knowledge, by the widening of the limits of learning and philosophy,
by the impetus given to independent research, art and literature,
and by the removal of unjustifiable prejudice, we are the inheritors
of a treasure that could hardly have been ours without the payment
of a heavy price.


## p. 56 (#78) ##############################################

CHAPTER IV
BARCLAY AND SKELTON
EARLY GERMAN INFLUENCES ON ENGLISH LITERATURE
ALEXANDER BARCLAY was born about 1475. A Scotsman by
descent, he probably came to England very early. He seems to
have studied in Oxford, and, perhaps, also in Cambridge. In his
Ship of Fools he states, with regret, that he has not always
been an industrious student; but the title 'syr,' in his translation
of Bellum Jugurthinum, implies that he took his degree, and in
his will he styles himself doctor of divinity. He is said to have
travelled in France and Italy ; but whether he visited any foreign
universities is rather doubtful. At all events, he strongly dis-
approves of this fashion of the time in The Ship of Fools. A
fairly good scholar, he knew French and Latin well and seems to
have been familiar, to a certain extent, even with German; but he
probably did not know Greek.
Barclay started his literary career with a translation of Pierre
Gringore's Le chasteau de labour, published by Antoine Verard
(c. 1503) and reprinted by Pynson (c. 1505) and Wynkyn de Worde
(1506 and c. 1510). Subsequently, in 1521, he wrote an Intro-
ductory to write and to pronounce Frenche, to which Palsgrave
refers in his Esclaircissement de la Langue Francoyse (1530)
in a by no means complimentary way. He even suggests
that it was not an original work but was founded on an older
treatise which Barclay may have found in the library of his
monastery.
Barclay's connection with humanism is proved by his Eclogues
(c. 1514) and a translation of Bellum Jugurthinum, published by
Pynson (c. 1520) and re-edited five years after Barclay's death. Like
the French primer, it was made at the suggestion of Thomas, duke
of Norfolk, Barclay's patron. In earlier days he owed much to
bishop Cornish, provost of Oriel College, Oxford, who made him


## p. 57 (#79) ##############################################

Alexander Barclay
57
a
chaplain of the college of Ottery St Mary, Devonshire. This
living he probably held for some years, and, during this time, he
completed his best known work, the translation of Brant's famous
satirical allegory. The Ship of Fools, published first by Pynson
in 1509, was dedicated, out of gratitude, to the said bishop. When
he translated The Myrrour of Good Maners, about 1523, from
the Latin of Dominicus Mancinus, Barclay was a monk at Ely.
There he had probably written also his Eclogues, the Intro-
ductory, the Sallust and the lost Life of St George. The
preface of The Myrrour not only shows that Barclay felt some-
what depressed at that time, but it also contains the interesting
statement, that, “the righte worshipfull Syr Giles Alington, Knight,
for whom the translation was made, had desired at first a modern-
ised version of Gower's Confessio Amantis, a task Barclay declined
as unsuitable to his age and profession. He must have been fairly
well known at this time ; for, according to a letter of Sir Nicholas
Vaux to Wolsey, dated 10 April 1520, he is to be asked, 'to devise
histoires and convenient raisons to florisshe the buildings and
banquet house withal at the meeting of Henry VIII and Francis I,
known as the field of the Cloth of Gold. In this letter, Barclay is
spoken of as 'the black monk'; but, later, he left the Benedictines
for the stricter order of the Franciscans in Canterbury. There he
may have written the Life of St Thomas of Canterbury, at-
tributed to him by Bale. Besides the works mentioned already,
Barclay seems to have written other lives of saints, some sermons
and a few other books to which reference will be made.
What became of him after the dissolution of the monasteries,
in 1539, is not known. An ardent champion of the catholic faith,
who had written a book de fide orthodoxa, as well as another on
the oppression of the church by the French king, he probably
found it hard to adapt himself to the altered circumstances of the
times. But the years of adversity and hardship were followed at
last by a short time of prosperity. In 1546, he was instituted
to the vicarage of Great Baddow, in Essex, and, in the same year,
also to that of St Matthew at Wokey, in Somerset. Both prefer-
ments, apparently, he held till his death. On 30 April 1552, he
became rector of All Hallows, Lombard Street, in the city of
London. Soon afterwards, he died at Croydon, where he had
passed part of his youth, and there he was buried. His will was
proved on the 10th of June in the same year.
As we have said before, Barclay's most important work is his
translation of Sebastian Brant’s Narrenschiff. What especially


## p. 58 (#80) ##############################################

58
Alexander Barclay
attracted him in the famous work of the Basel professor (first
edition, Basel, 1494) was, undoubtedly, its moral tone. The idea
of the whole was by no means new. Certain groups of fools
had been ridiculed in German flying sheets and Fastnachtsspiele
over and over again, and even the idea of the ship was not at
all unfamiliar to Brant's readers. But, to combine the two, to
summon all the different kinds of fools, and to send them on
à voyage in a huge ship, or in many ships, was new and proved
a great success. Not that Brant took much pains to work out
the allegory adopted in the beginning; on the contrary, he
was extremely careless in that respect, changing and even
dropping it altogether in the course of the work. And, as to
the classification of his fools, he proceeded quite unmethodically.
They follow one another without any strict order, only occasion-
ally connected by a very slight association of ideas. But it was
just this somewhat loose arrangement that pleased Brant's readers;
and, as his notion of folly was a very wide one, and comprised all
sorts of personal and social vices and weaknesses, the book became
an all-round satirical picture of the manners of the age. For the
enjoyment of the scholar, Brant added to each chapter a great
number of instances, taken from the Bible and from classical and
medieval authors; for the more homely reader he put in many
proverbs. When he called the whole a compilation, he did so,
not out of sheer modesty, but because he knew well that this
was the very best recommendation with his public, which loved
authorities and desiderated them even for the most commonplace
statements. As regards the spirit of the whole, it must be sought
above all in the moral purpose of the work. Brant did not only
blame people, but he wanted to induce them to mend their ways
by demonstrating the absurdity or the evil consequences of their
follies. His wit was not very striking, his satire rather innocent
and tame, his morality somewhat shallow and his language not
very eloquent. But he was in deadly earnest about his task and
had a remarkable talent for observation. His pictures of con-
temporary life were always true, and often vivid and striking.
Besides, there were the splendid woodcuts, done in a Hogarthian
spirit, which helped to render the whole livelier and more dra-
matic, even where the words were a little dull. He thought, of
course, mainly of his fellow-countrymen ; but most of the follies
and vices which he blamed and satirised were spread all over
Europe, and the general feeling of discontent peculiar to that time
of transition was extremely well expressed in the book. In spite


## p. 59 (#81) ##############################################

Barclay's additions to Brant
59
of his learning, Brant was, decidedly, a son of the olden time.
He does not insist upon reforms, but he tries to patch up. With
all its reactionary spirit, Das Narrenschiff enjoyed a vast popu-
larity and ran through many editions. Geiler von Kaisersberg
made its matter the subject of 112 sermons, and it influenced the
writings of such men as Murner and Erasmus. Within three
years
after its first appearance, it was translated into Latin by Brant's
friend Locher, and then into almost every European language.
Barclay, probably, first became acquainted with it through the
Latin version, which was soon as popular in England as everywhere
else. His translation, published in 1509, was almost the last in verse
to appear, and was followed in the same year by a prose trans-
lation by Henry Watson from the French version of Jehan Droyn.
In the preface, Barclay states that he used Locher's translation as
well as the French and German versions. In the original edition,
Locher's text is printed in front of the English translation, and
Cawood's edition of 1570 even puts on the title “translated out
of Latin into Englishe. Careful comparison has shown that
Barclay follows chiefly the Latin version, but that he made use of
the French version by Pierre Rivière (Paris, 1497), which was
founded on Locher also, and that he used at the same time,
though in a much less degree, the German original. For one of
the last chapters of his book he seems to be indebted to Jodocus
Badius, whereas the ballad in honour of the Virgin Mary at the
end is probably his own?
According to his prologue, he desired 'to redres the errours
and vyces of this our royalme of Englande, as the foresayde
composer and translatours hath done in theyr contrees. ' There-
fore, he followed his author 'in sentence' rather than word,
and it is very interesting to see how he added here and abridged
there, to suit his English public and his personal taste. On the
whole, he was inclined to a certain diffuseness and wordiness. He
tells us that Pynson, his publisher, who, apparently, knew him
well, was afraid from the very beginning that the book might
become rather bulky, and entreated him not to pack too many
fools into his ship. As it is, Barclay's translation is two and a
half times as long as his Latin original, namely fourteen thousand
and thirty-four lines? This is partly due to the metre, the
-.
heroic seven-lined stanza, which forms a curious contrast to the
6
1 Cf. Fraustadt, über das Verhältnis von Barclay's 'Ship oj Fools' zur lat. , franz. u.
deutschen Quelle.
? Brænt has 7034, Locher 5672 lines.


## p. 60 (#82) ##############################################

60
Alexander Barclay
a
unpretending matter and is handled sometimes a little stifly. The
language is very plain and simple, as Barclay meant to write
not for learned men but for the common people. A few
Scots words betray the author's nationality. Whereas the learned
Locher had obliterated the popular spirit of Brant's work, Barclay
sought to intensify it by cutting out many classical references,
exchanging unknown instances for such as were more familiar,
introducing new comparisons and so on.