haunt to the company of a wizard.'[1] These things were the counterpart of a religion which taught that slips of paper, duly paid for, could secure indemnity for sin. It was well for England that the chief captain at least was proof against the epidemic—no random scandal seems ever to have whispered that such delusions had touched the mind of the King.[2]
While the Grovernment were prosecuting these inquiries at home, the law at the Vatican had run its course; November passed, and as no submission had arrived, the sentence of the 12th of July came into force, and the King, the Queen, and the Archbishop of Canterbury were declared to have incurred the threatened censures.
The privy council met on the 2nd of December, and it was determined in consequence that copies of the 'Act of Appeals,' and of the King's 'provocation' to a general council, should be fixed without delay on every church door in England. Protests were at the same time to be drawn up and sent into Flanders, and to the other Courts in Europe, 'to the intent the falsehood and injustice of the Bishop of Rome might appear to all the world.' The defences of the country were to be looked to; and 'spies' to be sent into Scotland to see 'what they intended there,' 'and whether they would confeder themselves with any outward princes.' Finally, it was
