There is no more striking illustration of the power of the personal equation in the interpretation of history than that afforded by the conflicting opinions respecting the overthrow of monasticism in England.  Those who mourn the loss of the monasteries cannot find words strong enough with which to condemn Henry VIII., whom they regard as “unquestionably the most unconstitutional, the most vicious king that ever wore the English crown.”  Forgetting the inevitable cost of human freedom, and lightly passing over the iniquities of the monastic system, they fondly dwell upon the departed glory of the ancient abbeys.  They recall with sadness the days when the monks chanted their songs of praise in the chapels, or reverently bent over their books of parchment, bound in purple and gold, not that they might “winnow the treasures of knowledge, but that they might elicit love, compunction and devotion.”  The charming simplicity and loving service of the cloister life, in the days of its unbroken vows, appeal to such defenders of the monks with singular potency.

Truly, the fair-minded should attempt to appreciate the sorrow, the indignation and the love of these friends of a ruined institution.  Passionless logic will never enable one to do justice to the sentiments of those who cannot restrain their tears as they stand uncovered before the majestic remains of a Melrose Abbey, or properly to estimate the motives and methods of those who laid the mighty monastic institution in the dust.

The Character of Henry VIII

Before considering the actual work of suppression, it may be interesting to glance at the royal destroyer and his times.  The character of Henry VIII. is utterly inexplicable to many persons, chiefly because they do not reflect that even the inconsistencies of a great man may be understood when seen in the light of his times.  A masterly and comprehensive summary of the virtues and vices of the Tudor monarch, who has been described as “the king, the whole king, and nothing but the king,” may be found in “A History of Crime in England,” by Luke Owen Pike.  The distinguished author shows that in his brutality, his love of letters, his opposition to Luther, his vacillation in religious opinions, King Henry reflects with remarkable fidelity the age in which he lived, both in its contrasts and its inconsistencies.  “It is only the previous history of England which can explain all the contradictions exhibited in his conduct,—­which can explain how he could be rapacious yet sometimes generous, the Defender of the Faith yet under sentence of excommunication, a burner of heretics yet a heretic himself, the pope’s advocate yet the pope’s greatest enemy, a bloodthirsty tyrant yet the best friend to liberty of thought in religion, an enthusiast yet a turncoat, a libertine and yet all but a Puritan.  He was sensual because his forefathers had been sensual from time immemorial, rough in speech and action because there had been