The debate commenced. Personally, the members were generally interested in the preservation of the monasteries: most of them had some connection with one cloister or another; priors and other heads had relations and friends in Parliament. Nevertheless the condemnation was general, and men spoke of those monkish sanctuaries as, in former times, men had spoken of the priests of Jezebel—'Let us pull down their houses, and overturn their altars.'[204] There were, however, some objections. Twenty-six abbots, heads of the great monasteries, sat as barons in the Upper House: these were respected. Besides, the great convents were less disorderly than the small ones. Cromwell restricted himself for the moment to the secularization of 376 cloisters, in each of which there were fewer than twelve persons. The abbots, flattered by the exception made in their favor, were silent, and even the bishops hardly cared to defend institutions which had long been withdrawn from their authority. 'These monasteries,' said Cromwell, 'being the dishonor of religion, and all the attempts, repeated through more than two centuries, having shown that their reformation is impossible, the King, as supreme head of the Church under God, proposes to the Lords and Commons, and these agree, that the possessions of the said houses, shall cease to be wasted for the maintenance of sin, and shall be converted to better uses.'[205]

=REAL RELIGIOUS HOUSES.=

There was immediately a great commotion throughout England. Some rejoiced, while others wept: superstition became active, and weak minds believed everything that was told them. 'The Virgin,' they were assured, 'had appeared to certain monks, and ordered them to serve her as they had hitherto done.' 'What! no more religious houses,' exclaimed others, through their tears.[206] 'On the contrary,' said Latimer; 'look at that man and woman living together piously, tranquilly, in the fear of God, keeping His Word and active in the duties of their calling: they form a religious house, one that is truly acceptable to God. Pure religion consists not in wearing a hood, but in visiting the fatherless and the widows, and keeping ourselves unspotted from the world. What has hitherto been called a religious life was an irreligious life.'[207] 'And yet,' said the devout, 'the monks had more holiness than those who live in the world.' Latimer again went into the pulpit and said: 'When St. Anthony, the father of monkery, lived in the desert, and thought himself the most holy of men, he asked God who should be his companion in heaven, if it were possible for him to have one. "Go to Alexandria," said the Lord; "in such a street and house you will find him."[208] Anthony left the desert, sought the house, and found a poor cobbler in a wretched shop mending old shoes. The saint took up his abode with him, that he might learn by what mortifications the cobbler had made himself worthy of such great celestial honor. Every morning the poor man knelt down in prayer with his wife, and then went to work. When the dinner-hour arrived, he sat down at a table on which were bread and cheese; he gave thanks, ate his meal with joy, brought up his children in the fear of God, and faithfully discharged all his duties. At this sight, St. Anthony looked inwards, became contrite of heart, and put away his pride. Such is the new sort of religious houses,' added Latimer, 'that we desire to have now.'

And yet, strange to say, Latimer was almost the only person among the Evangelicals who raised his voice in favor of the religious bodies. He feared that if the property of the convents passed into the greedy hands of Henry's courtiers, the tenants, accustomed to the mild treatment of the abbots, would be oppressed by the lay landlords, desirous of realizing the fruits of their estate unto the very last drop. The Bishop of Worcester, being somewhat enthusiastic, was anxious that a few convents should be preserved as houses of study, prayer, hospitality, charity, and preaching.[209] Cranmer, who had more discernment and a more practical spirit, had no hope of the monks. 'Satan,' he said, 'lives in the monasteries; he is satisfied and at his ease, like a gentleman in his inn, and the monks and nuns are his very humble servants.'[210] The primate, however, took little part in this great measure.[211]

=SUPPRESSION OF THE MONASTERIES.=

The Bill for the suppression of the monasteries passed the two Houses on the 4th of February, 1536. It gave to the king and his heirs all the convents whose annual income did not exceed £200 sterling. About ten thousand monks and nuns were secularized. This Act added to the revenue of the Crown a yearly rental of £32,000 sterling, besides the immediate receipt of £100,000 sterling in silver, jewels, and other articles. The possessions hitherto employed by a few to gratify their carnal appetites seemed destined to contribute to the prosperity of the whole nation.

Unhappily, the shameless cupidity of the monks was replaced by a cupidity of a different nature. Petitions poured in to Cromwell from every quarter. The saying of Scripture was fulfilled, Wheresoever the carcass is, there will the eagles be gathered together. Thomas Cobham, brother of Lord Cobham, represented that the Grey Friars' monastery at Canterbury was in a convenient position for him; that it was the city where he was born, and where all his friends lived. He consequently asked that it should be given him, and Cranmer, whose niece he had married, supported the prayer.[212] 'My good Lord,' said Lord-Chancellor Audley, 'my only salary is that of the chancellorship; give me a few good convents; I will give you my friendship during my life, and twenty pounds sterling for your trouble.' 'My specially dear Lord,' said Sir Thomas Eliot, 'I have been the king's ambassador at Rome; my services deserve some recompense. Pray his Majesty to grant me some of the suppressed convent lands. I will give your lordship the income of the first year.'

History has to record evils of another nature. Some of the finest libraries in England were destroyed, and works of great value sold for a trifle to the grocers. Friends of learning on the continent bought many of them, and carried away whole shiploads. One man changed his religion for the sake of a piece of abbey land. The king lost at play the treasures of which he had stripped the monastic orders, and used convents as stables for his horses. Some persons had imagined that the suppression of the monasteries would lead to the abolition of taxes and subsidies; but it was not so, and the nation found itself burdened with a poor-law in addition to the ordinary taxes.[213] There were, however, more worthy cases than those of the king and his courtiers. 'Most dread, mighty, and noble prince,' wrote the lord-mayor of London to the king, 'give orders that the three city hospitals shall henceforward subserve not the pleasures of those canons, priests, and monks, whose dirty and disgusting bodies encumber our streets; but be used for the comfort of the sick and blind, the aged and crippled.'

The Act of Parliament was immediately carried out. The earl of Sussex, Sir John St. Clair, Anthony Fitzherbert, Richard Cromwell, and several other commissioners, travelled through England and made known to the religious communities the statutory dissolution. The voice of truth was heard from a small number of monasteries. 'Assuredly,' said the Lincolnshire Franciscans, 'the perfection of Christian life does not consist in wearing a gray frock, in disguising ourselves in strange fashion, in bending the body and nodding the head,[214] and in wearing a girdle full of knots. The true Christian life has been divinely manifested to us in Christ; and for that reason we submit with one consent to the king's orders.' The monks of the convent of St. Andrew at Northampton acknowledged to the commissioners that they had taken the habit of the order to live in comfortable idleness and not by virtuous labor, and had indulged in continual drunkenness, and in carnal and voluptuous appetites.[215] 'We have covered the gospel of Christ with shame,' they said. 'Now, seeing the gulf of everlasting fire gaping to swallow us up, and impelled by the stings of our conscience, we humble ourselves with lowly repentance, and pray for pardon, giving up ourselves and our convent to our sovereign king and lord.'

=SORROW AND DESPAIR.=