tiations, and a repetition of the profitless story of the preceding years. Suddenly, in the midst of the unreality, it became clear that one man at least was serious. Henry, with an insurgent Ireland and a mutinous England upon his hands, had no leisure for diplomatic finesse; he had learnt his lesson with Clement, and was not to be again deceived. The language of the Roman See had been inconsistent, but the actions of it had been always uniform. From the first beginning of the dispute to the final break and excommunication, in the teeth of his promises, his flatteries, his acknowledgments, Clement had been the partisan of Catherine. When the English agents were collecting the opinions of the Italian universities, they were thwarted by his emissaries. He had intrigued against Henry in Scotland; he had tampered with Henry's English and Irish subjects; he had maintained a secret correspondence with Catherine herself. And so well had his true feelings and the true position of the question been understood by the Papal party in England, that at the very time when at Marseilles and elsewhere the Pope himself was admitting the justice of the King's demand, the religious orders who were most unwavering in their allegiance to the Papacy, were pressing their opposition to the divorce into rebellion.
When, therefore, the Chair of St Peter was filled by a new occupant, and language of the same smooth kind began again to issue from it, the English Government could not for so light a cause consent to arrest their measures, or suspend the action of laws which had been
