where his own person was the subject of contention. He had no friends—or none whose connection with him did not increase his danger—while by his enemies he was hated as an incarnation of Satan. He left his cause in the King's hands, to be supported or allowed to fall.[1]
But the Tudor princes were invariably most calm when those around them were panic-stricken. From the moment that the real danger was known, the King's own hand was on the helm—his own voice was heard dictating his orders. Lincolnshire had again become menacing, and Suffolk had written despairing letters; the King told him 'not to be frightened at his shadow.' The reactionary members of the council had suggested a call of Parliament, and a proclamation that if any of the King's subjects could prove the late measures of the Government to be against the laws of God or the interests of the commonwealth, these measures should be undone. They had begged, further, that his Highness would invite all persons who had complaints against Cromwell and the bishops to come forward with their proofs, and would give a promise that if the charges could be substantiated, they should be proceeded against and punished.[2] At such a crisis the King refused either to call a Parliament to embarrass his hands, or to invite his subjects to argue against his policy. 'He dared to testify that there never were in any of his predecess-
