her companions would even look at them. They merely said they were not come thither to deny their Lord and Master. The Mayor rose, and exclaimed, 'Fiat Justitia,' and the pile was lighted.
That the persecution had not been instigated by the King is evident from the whole tenor of his later years, and from the confidence with which all accused persons appealed to him. While these trials were going forward he was pressed by the bishops to issue a proclamation for the surrender of the forbidden volumes of Protestant theology. He consented, but he accompanied the order with a promise that no person who might bring in such volumes should be in danger for their possession under existing statutes; and he directed 'that no bishop, chancellor, commissary, sheriff, or constable should be curious to mark' who the persons were.[1] He had ceased to sympathize with bigotry; how far he had endeavoured to check it is as difficult to know, as the extent of his responsibility is difficult to measure. It is no easy thing for a sovereign, when he sees his way but doubtfully, to set aside the law, in the face of a powerful party. But, after these last executions, he seems to have been finally revolted, and to have shaken himself free, by a resolute effort, of the whole accursed superstition. July 8.The persecutors, who had extended their operations into the counties, as well as exerted themselves in the capital, proceeded in the confidence of success to seize another member of the household, Sir George Blage.
- ↑ 'Royal Proclamation against unlawful books.'—Foxe, vol. v.
