But these innovations, evidently calculated for the good of the people, were not brought about without some struggles at home, while the protector was but too busily employed against the Scots, who, united with, and seconded by, France, still pushed on their inroads with unremitting animosity. Besides, there was still an enemy that he had yet to fear more than any of the former; and this was his own brother, lord Thomas Seymour, the admiral, a man of uncommon talents, but proud, turbulent, and intractable. This nobleman could not endure the distinction which the king had always made between him and his elder brother; so that they divided the whole court and the kingdom by their opposite cabals and pretensions. By his flattery and address he had so insinuated himself into the good graces of the queen-dowager, that, forgetting her usual prudence and decency, she married him immediately upon the decease of the late king. This match was particularly displeasing to the elder brother's wife, who now saw that, while her husband had the precedency in one place, she was obliged to yield it in another. His next step was to cabal and make a party among the nobility, who, as they hated his brother, fomented his ambition. He then bribed the king's domestics to his interest; and young Edward frequently went to his house, on pretence of visiting the queen. There he ingratiated himself with his sovereign, by the most officious assiduities, particularly by supplying him with money to distribute among his servants and favourites, without the knowledge of his governor. In the protector's absence with the army in Scotland, he made it his business to redouble all his arts and insinuations; and thus obtained a new patent for admiral, with an additional appointment. Sir William Paget, perceiving the progress he daily made in the king's affection, wrote on the sub

ject to the protector, who finished the campaign in Scotland with all possible dispatch, that he might return in time to counterwork his machinations. But before he could arrive in England, his brother had engaged in his party several of the principal nobility, and had even prevailed on the king himself to write a letter to the two houses of parliament with his own hand, desiring that the admiral might be appointed his governor; but the council, being apprised of his schemes, sent deputies to assure him, that, if he did not desist, they would deprive him of his office, send him prisoner to the Tower, and prosecute him on the last act of parlia ment, by which he was subject to the penalty of hightreason, for attempting to disturb the peace of the government. It was not without some severe struggles within himself, and some menaces divulged among his creatures, that he thought proper to submit, and desired to be reconciled to his brother. But he still nourished the same designs in secret; and his brother, suspecting his sincerity, employed spies to inform him of all his private transactions.

It was not in the power of persuasions or menaces to shake the admiral's unalterable views of ambition. His spouse, the queen-dowager, had died in child-bed; and this accident, far from repressing his schemes, only seemed to promote them. He made his addresses to the princess Elizabeth, afterwards so revered by the English; and it is said that she listened to his insinuations, contrary to the will of her father, who had excluded her from the succession, if she should marry without the consent of the council. The admiral, however, it is observed, had formed a scheme calculated to remove that objection; and his professions seemed to give reason to believe that he intended aiming at regal authority. By promises and persuasions he brought

over many of the principal nobility to his party; he neglected not even the most popular persons of inferior rank; and he computed that he could on occasion command the service of ten thousand men among his servants, tenants, and retainers. He had already provided arms for their use; and having engaged in his interests sir John Sharington, master of the mint at Bristol, a very corrupt man, he flattered himself that money would not be wanting.

A. D.

Somerset, being well ascertained of all these 1548. alarming circumstances, endeavoured by every expedient that his power or his near connection could suggest, to draw him from his designs. He reasoned, he threatened; he heaped new favours upon him; but all to no purpose. At length he resolved to make use of the last dreadful remedy, and to attaint his own brother of high-treason. In consequence of this resolution, and secretly advised to it by Dudley, earl of Warwick, a wicked ambitious man, who expected to rise upon the downfall of the two brothers, he deprived him of his office of high-admiral, and signed a warrant for committing him to the Tower. Yet still the protector suspended the blow, and showed reluctance to ruin one so nearly connected with himself: he offered once more to be sincerely reconciled, and to give him his life, if he would be contented to spend the remainder of his days in retirement and repentance. But finding himself unable to work on the inflexible temper of his brother by any methods but severity, he ordered a charge to be drawn up against him, consisting of thirty-three articles; and the whole to be brought into parliament, which was now the instrument used by ministers for the punishment of their enemies. The charge being brought first into the house of lords, several peers, rising up in their places, gave an account of what they

knew concerning lord Seymour's conduct, and his criminal words and actions. There was greater A.D. difficulty in managing the prosecution in the 1549. house of commons; but upon receiving a message from the king, requiring them to proceed, the bill passed in a very full house, near four hundred voting for it, and not above nine or ten against it. The sentence was soon after executed by beheading him on Tower-hill. His death, however, was, in general, disagreeable to the nation, who considered the lord Seymour as hardly dealt with, in being condemned upon general allegations, without having an opportunity of making a defence, or confronting his accusers. But the chief odium fell upon the protector; and it must be owned there was no reason for carrying his severity to such a length as he did.

This obstacle being removed, the protector went on to reform and regulate the new system of religion, which was now become the chief concern of the nation. A committee of bishops and divines had been appointed by the council to frame a liturgy for the service of the church; and this work was executed with great moderation, precision, and accuracy. A law was also enacted, permitting priests to marry; the ceremony of auricular confession, though not abolished, was left at the discretion of the people, who were not displeased at being freed from the spiritual tyranny of their instructors. The doctrine of the real presence was the last tenet of popery that.was wholly abandoned by the people, as both the clergy and laity were loth to renounce so miraculous a benefit as it was asserted to be. However, at last, not only this, but all the principal opinions and practices of the catholic religion, contrary to what the Scripture authorises, were abolished; and the Reformation, such as we have it, was almost en

tirely completed in England. In these innovations the majority of the people and clergy acquiesced; and Gardiner and Bonner were the only persons whose opposition was thought of any weight; they were, therefore, sent to the Tower, and threatened with the king's farther displeasure in case of disobedience.

But it had been well for the credit of the reformers, had they stopped at imprisonment only. They also resolved to become persecutors in turn; and although the very spirit of their doctrines arose from a freedom of thinking, they could not bear that any should controvert what they had been at so much pains to establish. A commission was granted to the primate and some others, to search after all anabaptists, heretics, or contemners of the new liturgy. Among the number of those who were supposed to incur guilt upon this occasion, was one Joan Boucher, commonly called Joan of Kent; who was so extremely obstinate, that the commissioners could gain nothing upon her. She had maintained an abstruse metaphysical sentiment, that Christ, as man, was a sinful man; but, as the Word, he was free from sin, and could be subject to none of the frailties of the flesh with which he was clothed. For maintaining this doctrine, which none of them could understand, this poor ignorant woman was condemned to be burned to death as a heretic. The young king, who, it seems, had more sense than his ministers, refused at first to sign the death-warrant; but, being at last pressed by Cranmer, and vanquished by his importunities, he reluctantly complied; declaring that, if he did wrong, the sin should be on the head of those who had persuaded him to it. The primate made a new effort to reclaim the woman from her opinions; but, finding her obstinate against all his arguments, he at last committed her to the flames. Some time after, one