t. They attempted
another appeal, suggesting that eight of their number should hold a
conference with the privy council, and "discover, if they might, some
possible expedient." But Henry replied, as before, that he would have a
clear answer, "_yes_, or _no_." They might say "yes," and their pardon was
ready. They might say "no"--and accept the premunire and its penalties. And
now, what should the clergy have done? No very great courage was required
to answer, "This thing is wrong; it is against God's will, and therefore it
must not be, whether premunire come or do not come." They might have said
it, and if they could have dared this little act of courage, victory was in
their hands. With the cause against them so doubtful, their very attitude
would have commanded back the sympathies of half the nation, and the king's
threats would have exploded as an empty sound. But Henry knew the persons
with whom he had to deal--forlorn shadows, decked in the trappings of
dignity--who only by some such rough method could be brought to a knowledge
of themselves. "Shrink to the clergy"--I find in a state paper of the
time--"Shrink to the clergy, and they be lions; lay their faults roundly
and charitably to them, and they be as sheep, and will lightly be reformed,
for their consciences will not suffer them to resist."[296]

They hesitated for another night. The day following, the archbishop
submitted the clause containing the title to the Upper House, with a saving
paragraph, which, as Burnet sententiously observes, the nature of things
did require to be supposed.[297] "Ecclesiae et cleri Anglicani," so it ran,
"singularem protectorem, et unicum et supremum Dominum, et quantum per
legem Christi licet, etiam supremum caput ipsius Majestatem agnoscimus--We
recognise the King's Majesty to be our only sovereign lord, the singular
protector of the church and clergy of England, and as far as is allowed by
the law of Christ, also as our Supreme Head." The words were read aloud by
the archbishop, and were received in silence. "Do you assent?" he asked.
The House remained speechless. "Whoever is silent seems to consent," the
archbishop said. A voice answered out of the crowd, "Then are we all
silent." They separated for a few hours to collect themselves. In the
afternoon sitting they discussed the sufficiency of the subterfuge; and at
length agreeing that it saved their consciences, the clause was finally
passed, the Bishop of Rochester, among the