Yet there was no hypocrisy in this. However willing Philip may have been that his concern for the interests of religion might be seen of men, it is no less true that, as far as he understood these interests, his concern was perfectly sincere. The actual state of England may have even operated as an inducement with him to overcome his scruples as to the connection with Mary. "Better not reign at all," he often remarked, "than reign over heretics." But what triumph more glorious than that of converting these heretics, and bringing them back again into the bosom of the Church? He was most anxious to prepare the minds of his new subjects for an honorable reception of the papal legate, Cardinal Pole, who was armed with full authority to receive the submission of England to the Holy See. He employed his personal influence with the great nobles, and enforced it occasionally by liberal drafts on those Peruvian ingots which he had sent to the Tower. At least, it is asserted that he gave away yearly pensions, to the large amount of between fifty and sixty thousand gold crowns, to sundry of the queen's ministers. It was done on the general plea of recompensing their loyalty to their mistress.[118]
Early in November, tidings arrived of the landing of Pole. He had been detained some weeks in Germany, by the emperor, who felt some distrust—not ill-founded, as it seems—of the cardinal's disposition in regard to the[{54}] Spanish match. Now that this difficulty was obviated, he was allowed to resume his journey. He came up the Thames in a magnificent barge, with a large silver cross, the emblem of his legatine authority, displayed on the prow. The legate, on landing, was received by the king, the queen, and the whole court, with a reverential deference which argued well for the success of his mission.
He was the man, of all others, best qualified to execute it. To a natural kindness of temper he united an urbanity and a refinement of manners, derived from familiar intercourse with the most polished society of Europe, his royal descent entitled him to mix on terms of equality with persons of the highest rank, and made him feel as much at ease in the court as in the cloister. His long exile had opened to him an acquaintance with man as he is found in various climes, while, as a native-born Englishman, he perfectly understood the prejudices and peculiar temper of his own countrymen. "Cardinal Pole," says the Venetian minister, "is a man of unblemished nobility, and so strict in his integrity, that he grants nothing to the importunity of friends. He is so much beloved, both by prince and people, that he may well be styled the king where all is done by his authority."[119] An English cardinal was not of too frequent occurrence in the sacred college. That one should have been found at the present juncture, with personal qualities, moreover, so well suited to the delicate mission to England, was a coincidence so remarkable, that Philip and Mary might well be excused for discerning in it the finger of Providence.
On the seventeenth of the month, parliament, owing to the queen's indisposition, met at Whitehall; and Pole made that celebrated speech in which he recapitulated some of the leading events of his own life, and the persecutions he had endured for conscience' sake. He reviewed the changes in religion which had taken place in England, and implored his audience to abjure their spiritual errors, and to seek a reconciliation with the Catholic Church. He assured them of his plenary power to grant absolution for the past; and—what was no less important—to authorize the present proprietors to retain possession of the abbey lands which had been confiscated under King Henry. This last concession, which had been extorted with difficulty from the pope, reconciling, as it did, temporal with spiritual interests, seems to have dispelled whatever scruples yet lingered in the breasts of the legislature. There were few, probably, in that goodly company, whose zeal would have aspired to the crown of martyrdom.
The ensuing day, parliament, in obedience to the royal summons, again assembled at Whitehall. Philip took his seat on the left of Mary, under the same canopy, while Cardinal Pole sat at a greater distance on her right.[120]
THE CATHOLIC CHURCH RESTORED.
The chancellor, Gardiner, then presented a petition in the name of the lords and commons, praying for reconciliation with the papal see. Absolution was solemnly pronounced by the legate, and the whole assembly received his benediction on their bended knees. England, purified from her heresy, was once more restored to the communion of the Roman Catholic Church.
Philip instantly despatched couriers, with the glad tidings, to Rome, Brussels, and other capitals of Christendom. Everywhere the event was celebrated with public rejoicings, as if it had been some great victory over the Saracens. As Philip's zeal for the faith was well known, and as the great change had taken place soon after his arrival in England, much of the credit of it was ascribed to him.[121] Thus, before ascending the throne of Spain, he had vindicated his claim to the title of Catholic, so much prized by the Spanish monarchs. He had won a triumph greater than that which his father had been able to win after years of war, over the Protestants of Germany; greater than any which had been won by the arms of Cortés or Pizarro in the New World. Their contest had been with the barbarian; the field of Philip's labors was one of the most potent and civilized countries of Europe.
The work of conversion was speedily followed by that of persecution. To what extent Philip's influence was exerted in this is not manifest. Indeed, from anything that appears, it would not be easy to decide whether his influence was employed to promote or to prevent it. One fact is certain, that, immediately after the first martyrs suffered at Smithfield, Alfonso de Castro, a Spanish friar, preached a sermon in which he bitterly inveighed against these proceedings. He denounced them as repugnant to the true spirit of Christianity, which was that of charity and forgiveness, and which enjoined its ministers not to take vengeance on the sinner, but to enlighten him as to his errors, and bring him to repentance.[122] This bold appeal had its effect, even in that season of excitement. For a few weeks the arm of persecution seemed to be palsied. But it was only for a few weeks. Toleration was not the virtue of the sixteenth century. The charitable doctrines of the good friar fell on hearts withered by fanaticism; and the spirit of intolerance soon rekindled the fires of Smithfield into a fiercer glow than before.