and firmness of the government, and by the inherent loyalty of the English to the land of their birth.  There was a proverb then current that “the treasons of England should never cease."[336] It was perhaps fortunate that the papal cause was the cause of a foreign power, and could only be defended by a betrayal of the independence of the country.  In Scotland and Ireland the insurrectionists were more successful, being supported in either instance by the national feeling.  But the strength of Scotland had been broken at Flodden; and Ireland, though hating “the Saxons” with her whole heart, was far off and divided.  The true danger was at home; and when the extent and nature of it is fairly known and weighed, we shall understand better what is called the “tyranny” of Henry VIII. and of Elizabeth; and rather admire the judgment than condemn the resolution which steered the country safe among those dangerous shoals.  Elizabeth’s position is more familiar to us, and is more reasonably appreciated because the danger was more palpable.  Henry has been hardly judged because he trampled down the smouldering fire, and never allowed it to assume the form which would have justified him with the foolish and the unthinking.  Once and once only the flame blazed out; but it was checked on the instant, and therefore it has been slighted and forgotten.  But with despatches before his eyes, in which Charles V. was offering James of Scotland the hand of the Princess Mary, with the title for himself of Prince of England and Duke of York[337]—­with Ireland, as we shall speedily see it, in flame from end to end, and Dublin castle the one spot left within the island on which the banner of St. George still floated—­with a corps of friars in hair shirts and chains, who are also soon to be introduced to us, and an inspired prophetess at their head preaching rebellion in the name of God—­with his daughter, and his daughter’s mother in league against him, some forty thousand clergy to be coerced into honest dealing, and the succession to the crown floating in uncertainty—­finally, with excommunication hanging over himself, and at length falling, and his deposition pronounced, Henry, we may be sure, had no easy time of it, and no common work to accomplish; and all these things ought to be present before our minds, as they were present before his mind, if we would see him as he was, and judge him as we would be judged ourselves.

Leaving disaffection to mature itself, we return to the struggle between the House of Commons and the bishops, which recommenced in the following winter; first pausing to notice a clerical interlude of some illustrative importance which took place in the close of the summer.  The clergy, as we saw, were relieved of their premunire on engaging to pay 118,000 pounds within five years.  They were punished for their general offences; the formal offence for which they were condemned being one which could not fairly be considered an offence at all.  When they came to