“In truth, sir, you speak very slightingly of these learned and distinguished men. And only, it seems, because they demand a reform in the morals of the clergy, and preach against and denounce the abuses of the church in the matter of indulgences.”
“Beautiful reformers!” cried Williamson. “They protest to-day against an abuse which they alone have felt as such, and that but for a very short time. And permit me to insist on your observing a fact, which it is by no means necessary or expedient to forget, that this quarrel originated in the displeasure felt by Luther because it was not to his own order, but to that of the Dominicans, to whom the distribution of indulgences was entrusted.”
“That may be possible, sir,” interrupted Cranmer, “but at least you will not deny that the immorality of the German clergy imperatively demanded a thorough reformation.”
“It is quite possible, my dear sir, that I may not be ready at once to agree with you in your opinions. But if the German church has become relaxed in morals, it is the fault of those only who before their elevation to the holy office had not, as they were bound to have, the true spirit of their vocation. But I pray you, on this point of morals, it will not do to boast of the severity of these new apostles. The disciples of Christ left their wives, when called to ‘go into all the world and preach the Gospel,’ but these men begin by taking wives. Luther has married a young and beautiful nun, an act that has almost driven his followers to despair, and scandalized and excited the ridicule of the whole city. As to Bucer, he is already married to his second wife!”
“What!” cried the bishop, “these men marry! Marry—in the face of the holy church! Do they forget the solemn vows of chastity they have made?—for they are all either priests or monks.”
“Their vows! Oh! they retract their vows, they say. These ‘vows’ are what they call abuses; and the priests of this so severely reformed church will hereafter enjoy the inestimable privilege of marrying.”
Whilst this conversation had been going on, Sir Thomas kept his eyes closely fixed on Cranmer, trying to discover, from the expression of his pale, meagre face, the impression made on him by the conversation. He was well convinced that latterly Cranmer, although he had already taken orders, maintained the new doctrines with all the influence he possessed. And the reason why he had so thoroughly espoused them was because of a violent passion conceived for the daughter of Osiander, one of the chief reformers.
Born of a poor and obscure family, he had embraced the ecclesiastical state entirely from motives of interest and ambition, and without the slightest vocation, his sole aim being to advance his own interests and fortunes by every possible means, and he had already succeeded in ingratiating himself with the Earl of Wiltshire, who, together with all the family of Anne Boleyn, were his devoted patrons and friends. It was by these means that he was afterwards elevated to the archiepiscopal see of Canterbury, where we will find him servilely devoting himself to the interests of Henry VIII., and at last dying the death of a traitor.
Influenced by such motives, Cranmer warmly defended the new doctrines, bringing forward every available argument, and ended by declaring he thought it infinitely better that the priests should be allowed to marry than be exposed to commit sin.
“Nothing obliges them to commit sin,” cried the Bishop of Rochester, who was no longer able to maintain silence. “On the contrary, sir, every law and regulation of the discipline and canons of the church tends to inspire and promote the most immaculate purity of morals. These rules may seem hard to those who have embraced the ecclesiastical state from motives of pride and an ambitious self-interest, and without having received from God the graces necessary for the performance of the duties of so exalted and holy a ministry. This is why we so often have to grieve over the misconduct of so many of the clergy. But if they complain of their condition now, what will it be when they have wives and families to increase their cares and add to their responsibilities? The priest!” continued the bishop, seeming to penetrate the very depths of Cranmer’s narrow, contracted soul, “have you ever reflected upon the sublimity of his vocation? The priest is the father of the orphan, the brother of the poor, the consoler of the dying, the spiritual support of the criminal on the scaffold, the merciful judge of the assassin in his dungeon. Say, do you not think the entire human race a family sufficiently large, its duties sufficiently extended, its responsibilities, wants, and cares sufficiently arduous and pressing? How could a priest do more, when his duty now requires him to devote, and give himself entirely to, each and every one of the human family? No; a priest is a man who has made a solemn vow to become an angel. If he does not intend to fulfil that vow, then let him never pronounce it!”