revolt against ecclesiastical power would continue
if every priest submitted. “The Reformation,”
said Froude at the beginning of his first course,
in November, 1892, “is the hinge on which all
modern history turns.” He traced in it
the rise of England’s greatness. When he
came back in his old age to Oxford, it was to sound
the trumpet-note of private judgment and religious
liberty, as if the Oxford Movement and the Anglo-Catholic
revival had never been. Froude could not be indifferent
to the moral side of historical questions, or accept
the doctrine that every one is right from his own
point of view. The Reformation did in his eyes
determine that men were responsible to God alone,
and not to priests or Churches, for their opinions
and their deeds. It also decided that the Church
must be subordinate to the State, not the State to
the Church. This is called Erastianism, and is
the bugbear of High Churchmen. But there is no
escape from the alternative, and the Church of Rome
has never abandoned her claim to universal authority.
Against it Henry
viii. and Cromwell, Elizabeth
and Cecil, set up the supremacy of the law, made and
administered by laymen. As Froude said at the
close of his first course, in the Hilary Term of 1893,
“the principles on which the laity insisted
have become the rule of the modern Popes no longer
depose Princes, dispense with oaths, or absolve subjects
from their allegiance. Appeals are not any more
carried to Rome from the national tribunals, nor justice
sold there to the highest bidder.” Justice
was sold at Rome before the existence of the Catholic
Church, or even the Christian religion. It has
been sold, as Hugh Latimer testified, in England herself.
But with the English Court’s independence of
the Holy See came the principles of civil and religious
freedom.
Few things annoyed Froude more than the attacks of
Macaulay and other Liberals on Cranmer. This
was not merely sentimental attachment on Froude’s
part to the compiler of the Prayer Book. He looked
on the Marian Martyrs as the precursors of the Long
Parliament and of the Revolution, the champions of
liberty in church and State. He would have felt
that he was doing less than his duty if he had taught
his pupils mere facts. Those facts had a lesson,
for them as well as for him, and his sense of what
the lesson was had deepened with years. He had
observed in his own day an event which made much the
same impression upon him as study of the French Revolution
had made upon Carlyle. When the Second Empire
perished at Sedan, Froude saw in the catastrophe the
judgment of Providence upon a sinister and tortuous
career. If the duty of an historian be to exclude
moral considerations, Froude did not fulfil it.
That there were good men on the wrong side he perceived
plainly enough. But that did not make it the
right side, nor confuse the difference between the
two.