CHAPTER XIII.

The

THE measures for the Reformation now went. on for a time with little serious opposition. spirit of Cranmer is manifest, particularly, in what was called the royal visitation, which was the step that first excited the impetuous opposition of the Bishop of Winchester. He saw in it a complete overthrow of the ancient faith, and a total abolition of the use of Catholic ordinances. With how little success he at this period opposed the measures of the reformers, has been seen. Cranmer, who acted by the authority of the Protector, and was the soul of the Protestant faith in England, was fully aware that Henry's system had been rather to increase his own power in opposition to the Pope, than to encourage the vital spirit of reform; and he now seriously set about building up, as well as pulling down.

He was averse to all violent changes, and wished to effect them gradually. It was, therefore, a great object with him, to retain all the ancient forms that could be kept consistently with the new faith, and to establish a hierarchy, which, while it included that system of doctrine and dis

cipline which he deemed the most pure and perfect, might be an effectual barrier against the Catholic religion, and yet keep alive those of its ceremonies which he considered harmless. It was on this principle, that the English hierarchy was formed, and, if the preservation of it is a proof of its excellence, as it has subsisted so many years without any essential change, we must allow its wisdom. The same argument, however, is used with perhaps equal force by the Catholics, in support of their ancient faith.

The first measure was the visitation, which consisted of a certain number of clergy and laity, who were to correct immoralities, to abolish the ancient superstitions among the dioceses of England, such as sprinkling their beds with holy water and using consecrated candles to drive away the Devil.

At the present day we may smile at the idea of removing superstition by authority. It melts away before the diffusion of knowledge. It was not the penal laws against witchcraft and necromancy, that brought them into disrepute. It was the light of intellect that made them ridiculous long before they were illegal.

While these measures were going on with the utmost steadiness and moderation, and all images preserved which had not been abused by idolatry, the Protector formed the project of uniting the

two kingdoms of Scotland and England, by the marriage of Mary, daughter of the Queen Dowager, sister of Henry, to the young King Edward.

The Queen Dowager's attachment to France, and her devotion to the Catholic religion, rendered this negotiation ineffectual; and, as Somerset considered it an object of the highest political moment, he determined to woo for Edward by the force of arms. Every history of the two kingdoms gives a minute recital of the battles which took place, and which seemed to have no decisive result, except that of throwing the young Queen into the power of the French. She was betrothed to the Dauphin and sent to France.

Edward was yet too young to take any other interest in this negotiation than as an affair of the realm. If he had understood its true nature, and how intimately his future weal or woe might have been implicated in the success, even then his sensitive spirit might have hesitated. What sensations rise in the mind at the mention of the Scottish Queen, the beautiful, imprudent, and ill-fated Mary! Ages have passed since her fate was consummated. Her fame has been blackened by enemies, her conduct censured by the cautious and the candid, and yet the cruel deed of the wise and successful Elizabeth is contemplated with sensations of horror and disgust. In her conduct towards her confiding relative she

proved herself the legitimate daughter of the murderer of her mother.

Although the Protector had failed in his project of uniting the two kingdoms, he obtained several victories over the Scots, and returned home covered with honors, and immediately called a Parliament.

There are few that meekly sustain the elevation of rank. The Duke seems to have been elated by his success, and made a foolish request to the young King, that he would grant him a patent allowing him to sit at his right hand on the throne. Edward willingly complied, and ordered a seat to be placed there for that purpose.

Slight as this concession seems, it was the cause of much ill will towards the Duke, who claimed (the Peers said) the same privileges as the blood royal.

Somerset passed several laws during this session that annulled much of the severity of former acts. Heresy, still, however, was considered a capital crime, and punished by burning.

Soon after the death of Henry the Eighth, his widow, Catharine Parr, married Lord Seymour, brother to the Protector. It was said that she had been attached to him before her marriage with the King. She certainly did not think it necessary to keep up much form on this occasion, as they were united immediately after her royal hus

band's death.

Seymour, Lord Admiral, was a man of great ambition, and boasted to his sisterin-law, the wife of the Protector, that his wife Catharine, held the first place in the realm. The Duchess of Somerset could by no means brook this idea, having fully believed that the first place belonged to herself, and immediately conceived the petty rivalry of a vain and foolish woman. Catharine was every way her superior, and entered but little into the heart-burnings that existed with her sister-in-law. Meanwhile the Duchess imprudently repeated the observations of Paget, the secretary of Somerset, who remarked, that Seymour was forming intrigues among the counsellors, corrupting by presents the King's servants, and striving by excessive indulgence to win the affections of the monarch himself. There probably was foundation for these suspicions; but the mild temper of Somerset made him overlook them, and the sudden death of Seymour's wife, the Queen Dowager, appeased the resentment of the Duchess by removing her rival.

For a time, all enmity seemed to have died away, till it was discovered that Seymour was trying to win the affections of Elizabeth, then in her sixteenth year. It is said she received him with complacency. But little weight, however, ought to be given to the slanders of a court, where, under the mask of courtesy, the worst pas