others that it merely meant a denial of the charges, whether they be true or false. My answer was, “Very well, I will swear that I never preached, held, or stated the errors whereof I am charged, and I never will preach, hold, or state them.” And at once they hark back to the old advice. Some argue that a man who submits himself to the Church wins merit by his humility when he confesses to guilt, though it be granted that he is innocent. In support of this argument one man brought forward the case of a saint in The Lives of the Fathers[1] by whose bed some persons had placed a certain book. When admonished for the offence, he denied it, being holy and blameless. They then said, “You stole it, and hid it in your bed.” The book was discovered there, and he at once admitted his guilt. Another man proved his point by the case of a nun, who, wearing male attire, lived in a cloister, and who was charged with having begotten a son by a certain woman. She allowed ‘Yes’ to go, and kept the boy; but it afterwards came out that she was an innocent woman. Many other cases were brought forward. An Englishman said, ‘If I were in your place, I would abjure at the bidding of my conscience; for in England all the doctors—very good men, too—who have been suspected of holding Wyclif’s views abjure in a formula set them by order of the archbishop.’[2]
Finally, they came yesterday to the old position that I should hand myself over entirely to the grace of the Council. Palecz came at my request. I
