Chapter VIII. Theological Views and Controversies
PURE theology occupies a smaller space in Cranmer’s life than in that of other great
Reformers, such as Luther, Zwingli, or Calvin; he founded no church and gave his name to no doctrinal system. His
work was rather to reform a church, and he laboured under conditions unlike those which determined the thoughts
and actions of his contemporaries in Europe. No one will dispute the vast importance of the religious issues
which agitated civilisation in the sixteenth century, but it is impossible to understand the history of that
epoch if it is treated from an exclusively theological point of view. Religious forces are potent indeed, but it
is doubtful whether religion has fashioned nationality so much as nationality has moulded religion. If religion
had been the one supreme test, it would have divided Europe into Catholic and Protestant parties, and not into
Catholic and Protestant nations. Religion, in fact, was not so dominant in the sixteenth as it had been in the
twelfth century, and the age was really one of secularisation. There was no Crusade, nor in any single instance
was there an effective coalition of Catholic or of Protestant powers for any object
whatever; and when wars of religion did come in the seventeenth century, it was France a Catholic power, which
caused the Protestant victory. Political conditions exercised incalculable influence over the results of the
religious movement ; Protestantism broke in vain against the national temper of Spain, and it was national
feeling in Germany which gave effect to Luther’s protest. Political conditions, too, differentiated the
Reformation in England from that in Germany and in Switzerland. Zwinglianism and Calvinism are republican because
the Swiss cantons were republics; Lutheranism became a territorial religion because territorialism was the
effective political principle then existent in Germany. The Church in England became the Church of
England because a strong national monarchy grasped the sceptre which was slipping from the hands of the Papal
hierarchy.
The predominance of the State in England was unfavourable to the influence of the Church and to the free
development of religious speculation, while the loose and impotent political organisation of Switzerland and
Germany stimulated independent thought. There the seat of authority was, if not empty, poorly filled; and in the
early years of the Reformation, at least, its direction fell into the hands of religious leaders. Hence Luther
and Zwingli were able to develop a theology which would soon have been checked in England. Their rulers were weak
and not theologians. Henry VIII. was strong and a theologian with emphatic views of his own. In England a reformation could only be effected by the State and through the
instrumentality of an Archbishop, who was not merely Primate of the Church but constitutionally the first adviser
of the Crown; a position which, while it conferred honour and dignity, also imposed restraints. It not only
bounded his liberty of action, but affected his point of view. To Luther truth could be the only consideration;
Cranmer had also to consider how truth could be translated into action and imposed on a doubting people; to him
compromise was essential, for he was a statesman as well as a theologian; he lived and moved in a practical
sphere in which ideals and abstractions could play but a limited part.
Another difference arises from this process of reformation by government instrumentality. Luther’s Ninety-five
Theses were his own individual act; the Confession of Augsburg was the work of Melanchthon; but the Ten and the
Forty-two Articles, the First and Second Books of Common Prayer, were the acts of a government and not the
manifestoes of an individual or even of a party. In these documents Cranmer’s voice sounded the dominant note,
but all in varying degrees are of composite authorship and represent the working of several minds. Like the
policy of modern cabinets, they may not embody any one man’s ideal, and caution should be observed in any attempt
to deduce therefrom the nature of private convictions. Particularly is this the case when the expressions of this
composite and collective opinion are directed primarily towards the reformation of
abuses and regulation of worship, and not towards the definition of dogma. Had the Reformation in England been
guided by Calvin or Luther, or by a series of ecclesiastical councils, it might have produced religious war, but
would probably have propagated a more definite theological system. A layman is not necessarily a bad theologian,
but a statesman must economise truth and compound with the forces of darkness.
Circumstances thus turned Cranmer away from abstract speculation, and on its speculative and philosophical side
his theology is not distinctive. Metaphysics lay quite beyond his mental horizon; and he has little or nothing to
say on the tremendous issues involved in the relations between the will of man and the will of God. Probably he
thought these vast realms a trackless waste on which it would be rash to enter. Caution was a marked
characteristic of Cranmer’s typically English mind; although it was open to many influences, no single idea took
exclusive possession; truth shone into it through various media, and the light it received was a blend less clear
but more soft than the rays which pierced the brain of Luther or Calvin. The same is true of Anglican doctrine;
the strict alliance of Church and State was by no means an unmixed blessing, but it acted as some protection from
the fierce glare of some theological dogmas; and when Lutheran, Zwinglian, and, lastly, Calvinistic rays did
break in upon the English Church they were so combined and modified that a sort of spectrum analysis is required to distinguish them one from another. And if the light was moderate, the
heat was also less; for the passion which loosed England from Rome was a political sentiment rather than a
religious enthusiasm like that aroused by Predestination or Justification by Faith; and Cranmer’s theology by
itself would not have generated sufficient force to drive the engine of Reform.
Cranmer himself appears to have reached his convictions by the intellectual path of reason rather than through
the sensational “experiences” which led to Luther’s revolt. His repugnance to the old religious system did not,
it would seem, arise from its failure to satisfy the spiritual needs of a clamant conscience, but from the
dissonance between the Scriptures and the Papacy. It was the study of the Scriptures and not the wrestling of the
spirit that first aroused Cranmer’s doubts. To the Scriptures he had devoted his time from his early days at
Cambridge, and throughout his life their influence over his mind was ever-increasing. His career was a troubled
but constant journeying away from the papal towards the evangelical position; and the decrees of Popes and of
General Councils, and even the words of the Fathers, gradually receded into the distance. Yet Cranmer never
reached the extreme of Zwinglianism. He did not condemn all that was not in the Bible, for an Archbishop could
scarcely do that with consistency; and he had little patience with those who objected to kneeling because it was
not enjoined in the Scriptures. So, too, he always attached a great, though lessening, value to the Fathers as interpreters of the words of Christ and of the Apostles.
The Bible was Cranmer’s Ark of the Covenant, and his lack of the speculative instinct saved him from the
temptation to lay impious hands upon it. He could make effective use of the contradictions between the various
decrees of the Popes; but he seems to have been happily blind to the difficulties presented by the text of the
Scriptures. In this respect he was less acute or less frank than Luther, who admitted the discrepancies between
the Synoptists and the Gospel of St. John, and between Stephen’s account of Jewish history and that recorded in
the Old Testament.1 Still farther was Cranmer from the mental attitude of
Carlstadt, who doubted the Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch, and believed that the original form of the
Gospels had not been preserved intact.2 His interest in textual criticism of the
Scriptures was conditioned by the support which it gave to attacks on the Papacy. This was the natural position
for a practical man engaged in a life-and-death struggle; it is scarcely the business of such an one to exhibit
the defects in the weapon with which he defended himself and attacked his enemies; and Cranmer was too busy
wielding the sword of the Gospel to spend much time in displaying its flaws.
The application of the Scriptural test to the problems of the time was with Cranmer a slow and gradual development; but it was none the less an independent process, anterior to and not
consequent upon the action of the State. For years before the divorce of Catherine of Aragon he had prayed for
the abolition of the papal jurisdiction; and before the Government had taken any action with regard to the
doctrine or the practice of the Church, his faith in papal theology had gone the way of his respect for papal
law. Whether his visit to Rome in 1530 produced as deep an impression as Luther’s did, we do not know; but at
least it did nothing to alter the tendencies of his mind. It is obvious that in 1532 he no longer believed in
compulsory celibacy for the clergy; and his intercourse with the Lutheran divines during his embassy to Germany
in that year had probably confirmed his doubts of other orthodox views. As soon as he became Archbishop he began
to agitate for an authorised version of the Scriptures in English, and the Ten Articles of 1536 were evidence of
the distance he had already travelled from later Catholic doctrine. He had in 1537 already rejected the abuses of
“Purgatory, pilgrimages, praying to saints, images, holy bread, holy water, holy days, merits, works, ceremony,
and such other.”1
Of these changes the most important was the denial of Purgatory, for it was belief in its existence and in the
power of the clergy to redeem men’s souls from its pains that gave the Roman Church its hold over the popular
mind. The claim was not capable of practical or ocular refutation; and the fear that,
however successfully the priest might be restrained in this world, he might have the last word in the other, was,
next to the impression that the priest was endowed with the miraculous power of “making God,” the greatest
obstacle in the path of the Reformation. Hence the importance of Luther’s dogma of Justification by Faith, which
made priestly intercession a work of supererogation; and hence that dogma was so far accepted by the English
Church as to undermine the belief in Purgatory. Cranmer himself went farther in this direction than most English
Reformers, and the views he expressed in 1547 in his Homily of Salvation1
are scarcely distinguishable from Luther’s own; “faith,” he wrote, “doth not exclude repentance, hope, love,
dread, and the fear of God, to be joined with faith in every man that is justified, but it excludeth them from
the office of justifying. … Nor that faith also doth not exclude the justice of good works, necessarily to be
done afterward of duty towards God … but it excludeth them, so that we may not do them to this intent, to be made
good by doing of them.”
Cranmer’s attitude towards other theological questions (except the Eucharist) may best be indicated by
summarising his replies to the series of interrogations put to the bishops by Henry VIII. about 1541.2 He did not materially vary from the position he then held, and
his answers illustrate not only the difference between him and the Roman Catholics, but that between him and both
High and Free churchmen of to-day. With regard to the nature, number, and authority of the sacraments he said
that the Scriptures “sheweth not what a sacrament is,” nor how many sacraments there were; while the “ancient
doctors” described a sacrament as sacrœ rei signum, visibile verbum, symbolum, atque pactio, quâ sumus
constricti, and applied the name to many more than the orthodox seven; he knew no reason why the word should
be attributed to the seven only, for that number of seven was “no doctrine of Scripture, nor of the old authors.”
Questioned whether the thing was there, though the name was absent, he replied that Baptism and the
Eucharist were the only two things in Scripture which could be regarded as sacraments ; penance was in Scripture
“a pure conversion of a sinner in heart and mind,” and there was no mention of its conventional tripartite
division into contrition, confession, and satisfaction; matrimony, confirmation, and extreme unction were not
sacraments; nor was there any allusion in Scripture to “confirmation with chrism, without which it is counted no
sacrament.”
The interrogations then pass on to the debatable ground of the ecclesiastical power of princes. Was it for lack
of commission from a Christian king that the Apostles took upon them to make bishops? or had they authority given
of God? Cranmer drew up a long reply. All Christian princes, he said, have committed to them immediately of God
the whole cure of all their subjects, as well concerning the administration of God’s
Word for the cure of the soul as concerning the ministration of things political and civil governance.1 So under them they have both civil and ecclesiastical ministers, who are appointed by
their laws and orders. In the admission of many of these officers divers comely ceremonies and solemnities were
used, but they were not necessary, and their omission would not invalidate the appointment; nor was there any
more divine promise of grace to be given “in the committing of the ecclesiastical office” than in that of the
civil office. It was the lack of authority from a Christian king that compelled the Apostles to appoint ministers
of God’s Word.
To further questions Cranmer answered that in the beginning there was no distinction between priest and bishop,
and that while a bishop might make priests, so might princes and governors, “and the people also by their
election.” “In the New Testament he that is appointed to be a Bishop or Priest needeth no consecration by the
Scripture, for election or appointing thereto is sufficient”; a Christian prince was also bound, in case
ecclesiastics failed, to teach and preach the Word of God and to make and constitute priests. A man was not bound
by Scripture “to confess his secret deadly sins to a priest”; nor did Scripture
command or forbid a bishop or priest to excommunicate; such powers depended entirely upon the laws of the country
where he lived.
Many of these points are of merely antiquarian or academic interest, and their importance is slight compared with
that of Cranmer’s views on the Eucharist. The doctrine of Transubstantiation he had abandoned early, though the
exact date of the change cannot be ascertained. In 1538 he wrote to Cromwell1:
“As concerning Adam Damplip of Calais, he utterly denieth that ever he taught or said that the very body and blood of Christ was not presently in the sacrament of the altar, and confesseth the same to be there really; but he saith that the controversy between him and the prior was because he confuted the opinion of transubstantiation, and therein I think he taught but the truth.’
But he was yet far from the Zwinglian position;
“for,” he wrote in 15372 to the Zwinglian J. de Watt, “unless I see stronger evidence brought forward than I have yet been able to see, I desire neither to be the patron nor the approver of the opinion maintained by you. And I am plainly convinced … that the cause is not a good one.”
The doctrine of the Real Presence was, he thought, proved by “evident and manifest passages of Scriptures,”
and “handed down to us by the Fathers themselves and men of apostolical character from
the very beginning of the Church”; and “our gracious Lord would never have left his beloved spouse in such
lamentable blindness for so long a period.”
The last was a two-edged argument for a Reformer to use, and the time came when Cranmer himself rejected the Real
Presence in spite of the manifest passages in Scripture, the Fathers, and men of apostolical character. This
development was, however, slow, and its history has been obscured by a remark of Cranmer’s during his examination
before Bishop Brooks in 1555.1 “You, master Cranmer,” said Dr. Martin2 to him, “have taught in this high sacrament of the altar three contrary doctrines, and yet
you protested in every one verbum Domini.” “Nay,” replied Cranmer, “I taught but two contrary doctrines”;
and his remark has been considered3 a decisive refutation of the idea that he had
passed through a Lutheran phase in his transition from papal to Zwinglian doctrine. It is perhaps a little loose
to identify the High Anglican doctrine of the Real Presence with the Lutheran dogma of Consubstantiation; but
that Cranmer at one time believed in the Real Presence while he disbelieved in Transubstantiation is certain. That is the only inference possible from his letters to Cromwell and Watt quoted
above; and in the preface to his Answer to Dr. Richard Smith he wrote that he was “in that error of the
Real Presence, as I was many years past in divers other errors, as of Transubstantiation,” thus
clearly distinguishing between the two. His answer to Dr. Martin may have been misreported, or his memory may
have deceived him; but there is a third explanation. Proceeding to define the two “contrary doctrines” he had
taught, he indicates “the Papists’ doctrine” as one, and the view he then held as the other. He had come to
regard the Real Presence no less than Transubstantiation as “Papists’ doctrine,” and the same identification is
made in the preface to his answer to Gardiner.
Yet Cranmer would not have called the Real Presence “Papists’ doctrine” at any time between 1538 and 1548. He
believed it himself throughout that decade, and assuredly he then was no papist. Down to the eve of the debate on
the Sacrament in December, 1548, he was regarded by the Zwinglians as a lukewarm Lutheran, though nearly a year
before he had described the mass as “a memory and representation,” 1 and the
description of him as a Lutheran merely means that he was neither papist nor Zwinglian. The means of Cranmer’s
conversion have been already discussed2; the results were apparent in the debate
on the Sacrament and in Cranmer’s controversies with Bishop Gardiner and with Dr. Richard Smith; in these books
he gives the fullest account of his belief on the question and of the reasons which
led him to hold it.
The First Book of Common Prayer had embodied a compromise on the Eucharist between the views of Cranmer and those
of the Catholic bishops. The phraseology employed was capable of a Catholic and of a Protestant interpretation,
and both sides asserted that theirs was the only true gloss. But the political events of 1549 had substituted an
aggressive for an accommodating government, and it was with the good wishes if not at the instigation of the
ruling Protestants that Cranmer set to work to prove that the Protestant view was correct. His book was entitled
A Defence of the True and Catholic Doctrine of the Sacrament, and it was published in 1550.1 In it Cranmer took occasion to impugn some assertions made by the Bishop of Winchester in
his sermon before the King on 30 June, 1548, and Gardiner, although he was now in prison, found means to take up
the cudgels in his own defence. His book was entitled An Explication and Assertion of the True Catholic Faith
touching the most blessed Sacrament of the Altar with Confutation of a book Written against the Same.
Gardiner affected to believe that the Defence, although published under Cranmer’s name, was not by him
because it was inconsistent with the views which the Archbishop had previously
expressed on the subject. Another attack on Cranmer was made by Dr. Richard Smith, who is extravagantly described
by Anthony Wood as “the greatest pillar of the Roman Catholic cause in his time.”1 The Archbishop replied to both in An Answer, published in 1551, in which are also
incorporated his original treatise and Gardiner’s rejoinder. The whole volume is more than three times the size
of this present one, so that it is impossible to follow even in outline the threads of Cranmer’s argument or to
do more than give a brief indication of his conclusions.
From the point of view of mental equipment Gardiner was scarcely a match for the Archbishop. He had no claim to
Cranmer’s learning, and although, as he acknowledges, his skill in debate had earned him the name of “sophister,”
he complains that Cranmer overcame him with sophistry; and Sir Thomas More had once confessed himself staggered
by the subtlety of Cranmer’s arguments. Nevertheless Gardiner had a great deal of rough common sense, and he
presented the Catholic view with no little ability, and considerable moderation. “I know,” he writes,1 “by faith Christ to be present [in the sacrament], but the particularity how he is
present, more than I am assured he is truly present, and therefore in substance present I cannot tell; but
present he is, and truly is and verily is, and … therefore in substance is, and, as we term it, substantially
is present.” The words in italics represent the position which Cranmer challenged ; and they have the merit
of avoiding the vague term real. For spiritual things are as real as things material; and in this sense
Cranmer strenuously asserted the Real Presence in the Sacrament. “As for the real presence of Christ in the
Sacrament,” he writes, “I grant that he is really present … that is to say in deed, and yet but
spiritually.”2 That real did not involve a corporal presence; and
Gardiner’s therefore begged the question. “Doth not God’s word,” asked Cranmer, “teach a true presence of
Christ in spirit where he is not present in his corporal substance? As when he saith: ‘where two or three be
gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.’ And also when he saith: ‘I shall be with you till
the end of the world.’ Was it not a true presence that Christ in these places promised? And yet can you not of
this true presence gather such a corporal presence of the substance of Christ’s manhood as you unlearnedly
contrary to the Scriptures go about to prove in the sacrament.”3
Cranmer’s thesis is, “that as no Scripture, so no ancient author known and approved hath in plain terms your
transubstantiation; nor that the body and blood of Christ be really, corporally,
naturally, and carnally under the forms of bread and wine; nor that evil men do eat the very body and drink the
very blood of Christ; nor that Christ is offered every day by the priest a sacrifice propitiatory for
sin.”1 His doctrine, he maintained, “was never condemned by no council, nor your
false papistical doctrine allowed, until the devil caused Antichrist, his son and heir, Pope Nicholas
II.,2 with his monks and friars, to condemn the truth and confirm these your
heresies.”3 Elsewhere he declares that Pope Innocent III. was “the chief author
of your doctrine both of transubstantiation and of the real presence.”4 By “real
presence” Cranmer generally means a corporal presence, which Luther asserted when he declared that “the mouth
eats the body of Christ bodily.” Cranmer believed “that Christ giveth himself truly to be eaten, chewed, and
digested; but all is spiritually with faith, not with the mouth.”5 Here
was a clear repudiation of Lutheran doctrine, and Gardiner made a good forensic use of the discrepancy between
the two Reformers. He complained that the Archbishop sought to prejudice his opponent’s case by calling the Real
Presence a Papistical dogma, whereas others held it who were no Papists,—for instance, Luther and himself.
Cranmer retorted that he called it Papists’ doctrine because Papists invented it, not
because Papists and no one else believed in it; and he pointed out that Luther was not a good witness for
Gardiner to allege, because Luther, while holding the Real Presence, denounced more emphatically than any other
Reformer the doctrine of Transubstantiation, in which Gardiner believed.
Having thus repudiated both Lutherans and Papists, Cranmer showed that he did not sympathise with the extreme
Zwinglian view, that the bread and wine were “bare tokens,” and nothing more. “They be,” he writes,1 “no vain or bare tokens (for a token is that which betokeneth only and giveth nothing, as
a painted fire, which giveth neither light nor heat); but in the due ministration of the sacraments God is
present, working with his word and sacrament.” The bread and wine “have promises of effectual
significance.”2 “As the bread is outwardly eaten indeed in the Lord’s supper, so
is the very body of Christ inwardly by faith eaten indeed of all them that come thereto in such sort as they
ought to do, which eating nourisheth them into everlasting life.”3 “I do not say
that Christ’s body and blood be given to us in signification, and not in deed. But I do as plainly speak as I
can, that Christ’s body and blood be given to us in deed, yet not corporally and carnally, but spiritually and
effectually.”4
This is the gist of Cranmer’s teaching. There is both a real presence and a miraculous working in the sacrament;
but both the presence and the working are spiritual, not material. Christ is present in His divinity, not in His
humanity1; He is really absent in body, for that is in heaven, but He is really
present in spirit; “Christ is with us spiritually present, is eaten and drunken of us, and dwelleth within us,
although corporally he be departed out of this world, and is ascended up into heaven”2; “He is neither corporally in the bread and wine, nor in or under the forms and figures of
them, but is corporally in heaven, and spiritually in his lively members, which be his temple where he
inhabiteth.”3 So, too, “the miraculous working is not in the bread, but in them
that duly eat the bread, and drink that drink … For he is effectually present and effectually worketh, not in the
bread and wine, but in the godly receivers of them.”4 “And the true eating and
drinking of the said body and blood of Christ is with a constant and lively faith to believe that Christ gave his
body and shed his blood upon the cross for us, and that he doth so join and incorporate himself to us that he is
our head, and we his members, and flesh of his flesh, bone of his bone, having him dwelling in us and we in him.
And herein standeth the whole effect and strength of this sacrament. And this faith God worketh inwardly in our
hearts by his holy Spirit.”5 The best summing up of Cranmer’s views may also be
given in his own words; “figuratively he is the bread and wine, and spiritually he is
in them that worthily eat and drink the bread and wine; but really, carnally, and corporally he is only in
heaven, from whence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead.”1
These words represent Cranmer’s mature opinion,2 from which he only varied during
some six weeks in 1556; and when that moment of weakness had passed he returned to the position here indicated,
and in his last hour declared that he believed as he had taught in his book against the Bishop of Winchester. His
view of the Sacrament has been denounced as a “low” one; but the only ground for the charge is the fact that
Cranmer’s doctrine reduces the importance of the priest as an intercessor between God and man, and emphasises the
direct as against the indirect relationship. The Sacrament still remains a miracle, but it is a miracle wrought
by God and not by priests, a miracle feeding the souls of men, and not transforming material bread and wine, a miracle relating not to the things seen which are temporal, but to the unseen
things which are eternal.
The denial of this material miracle wrought by the hands of priests struck at the root of the mediaeval Church
system, and it is for this reason that the religious controversies of the sixteenth century centred round the
doctrine of the Mass. The sacerdotal claim had always been that the grace of God flows only through priestly
channels, and that none could be saved except by resort to the priestly monopoly. Hence came clerical privilege
and clerical rule; “shall the hands that have made God,” asked indignant churchmen in the time of Henry II., “be
bound like those of a common malefactor?” Cranmer denied that the hands of the priest could “make God”; and
therefore the whole superstructure fell to the ground. But this denial was the only means of its overthrow.
“What availeth it,” he asked in his preface, “to take away beads, pardons, pilgrimages, and such like popery, so long as the two chief roots remain unpulled up? Whereof, so long as they remain, will spring again all former impediments of the Lord’s harvest, and corruption of his flock. The rest is but branches and leaves, the cutting away whereof is but like topping and lopping of a tree, or cutting down of weeds, leaving the body standing and the roots in the ground; but the very body of the tree, or rather the roots of the weeds, is the popish doctrine of transubstantiation, of the real presence of Christ’s flesh and blood in the sacrament of the altar (as they call it), and of the sacrifice and oblation of Christ made by the priest for the salvation of the quick and the dead; which roots, if they be suffered to grow in the Lord’s vineyard, they will overspread all the ground again with the old errors and superstitions.”
_______________
1 H. E. Jacobs, Luther, p. 351.
2 For Andrew Bodenstein, or Carlstadt, see the present writer in Cambridge
Modern, History, ii., 165.
1 Cranmer, Works, ii., 351.
1 This homily is printed in Works, ii., 128–134; Cranmer was almost
certainly its author. His “Notes on Justification,” consisting of passages from the Scriptures, the Fathers,
and the Schoolmen, are printed in Works, ii., 203–211, and in Jenkyns, ii., 121 et sqq.
2 Burnet, iv., 443–496.
1 These views appeared to be derived from Marsiglio of Padua who anticipated by
two centuries the Tudor theory of Church and State (cf. Dunning, Ancient and Mediæval Political
Theory, pp. 242–3). Marsiglio’s Defensor Pacis was printed in England in 1536, with Cromwell’s
approbation (see the present writer in D. N. B., s. v. “Marshall, William,” xxxvi., 250).
1 Works, ii., 375.
2 Ibid., ii., 343.
1 Foxe, viii., 56.
2 Thomas Martyn, or Martin, was a zealous Roman Catholic civilian who took a
prominent part in the proceedings against the Marian martyrs; he was, however, unmolested in Elizabeth’s reign,
and was even given some legal work by the Government; see D. N. B., xxxvi., 320.
3 Wordsworth, Eccl. Biogr., iii., 550; cf. Jenkyns iv., 95, and
Cranmer, Works, ii., 215.
1 Burnet, v., 201.
2 See above, p. 216.
1 The origin of his book is also attributed to the publication of Gardiner’s
Detection of the Devil’s Sophistry, a treatise against Protestant views of the sacrament, but this had
been published four years before in 1546. A Latin version of the Defence by Sir J. Cheke was published
abroad in 1553.
1 Smith had been first Regius Professor of Divinity at Oxford; he repudiated
his Romanism in 1547, but in 1549 had a famous argument on the Sacrament at Oxford with Peter Martyr. He then
fled to Louvain, whence his answer to Cranmer was published. He was restored to his professorship under Mary,
and preached at Latimer and Ridley’s martyrdom from the text, “If I give my body to be burnt, and have not
charity, it profiteth nothing.” The fact suggests that Smith himself had little charity; neither did he give
his body to be burnt, but again recanted in 1559, was deprived of his professorship on the ground of adultery,
and was made chancellor of Douay University ; see D. N. B., liii., 101–102.
1 Cranmer, Works, i., 59.
2 Ibid., i., 127.
3 Ibid., i., 61.
1 Works, i., 13.
2 Nicholas II. was Pope from 1058 to 1061.
3 Works, i., 14.
4 Ibid i., 65; Innocent was Pope from 1198 to 1216.
5 Ibid., i., 15; the eating of God as a means of salvation was not, of
course, originally a Christian idea; it is found in some very primitive religions.
1 Works, i., 11.
2 Ibid., i., 17.
3 Ibid., i., 36.
4 Ibid., i., 37.
1 Works, i., 49.
2 Ibid., i., 12; cf. p. 52.
3 Ibid., i., 53–54.
4 Ibid., i., 34.
5 Ibid., i., 43.
1 Works, i., 139.
2 Gardiner again replied to this book of Cranmer’s in 1552, and the Archbishop
was engaged on a further rejoinder when death cut short his work under Queen Mary; see below, p. 357.
Another controversial work attributed to Cranmer is A Confutation of Unwritten Verities, which was
published by an English exile, E. P., in 1558, and professed to be a translation from a Latin original by
Cranmer; but the only part that Cranmer appears to have had in the work was that it is based on a collection of
passages from the Scriptures and the Fathers compiled by the Archbishop and preserved among his
commonplace-books in the British Museum (Royal MS., 7, B. xi., xii.). It has been admitted into the
various editions of Cranmer’s Works, but Jenkyns is very doubtful as to its claim to be his, and remarks
that “it cannot be safely quoted as evidence of Cranmer’s tenets.”
