‘To whet our sythe at the Philistims forge’: WILLIAM BRIDGE and the paradox of ANTI-popery
Table of contents: The Kazakh-American Free University Academic Journal №6 - 2014
Author: Pearson Samuel, Durham University, United Kingdom
dispute the relative importance of religious versus political motivations for
opposition to King Charles I in the early 1640s. In 1984 John Morrill set forth
the ‘wars of religion’ model stressing the primacy of religious incentives in
the English Civil War.
Morrill compartmentalised reasons for protest during the Long Parliament into
‘the localist, the legal-constitutionalist, and the religious’
and assigned ultimate agency to the latter.
Two strands of historiography then marshalled responses to Morrill, notes Glenn
Burgess. Whig-liberal history perpetuated a teleological fallacy - the notion
that because an Enlightened, modern, individualistic liberty eventuated from
the English Revolution, the revolution’s instigators must have intended that
In contrast, while commending Morrill for restoring religious motivations to
mainstream Civil War historiography, the revisionist approach adopted in this
article rejects Morrill’s partition between religion and politics as an
anachronism incomprehensible to early modern people. Instead, it acknowledges with
Glenn Burgess the ‘intricate discursive connections between religion and
politics’ in the early modern mind.
Tracing this holistic
approach to early modern political thought, we find Stuart Clark in 1980
proposing sixteenth-century accounts of witchcraft as expressions of inversion.
Early modern people interpreted such anomalies not simply as distortions of the
normal but as capsized antipodes of order.
Likewise, in 1981 R.W. Scribner identified the dialectic process by which
Lutheran printers and artists framed their identity as purity and truth against
an antithesis of Catholic corruption and deception. Adopting inversion theory, Peter Lake explained ‘anti-popery’ as the process by which ‘every negative characteristic
imputed to Rome implied a positive cultural, political or religious value which
Protestants claimed as their own exclusive property’. Anti-popery emerged as a
language of expression unto itself. The amorphous nature of the label ‘popery’
enabled Protestants to apply it to anything they considered contradictory to
their confessional vision of the national future, reduce political decisions to
polar opposites by which they defined their identities, and command Protestant
solidarity against doctrines, decrees, or persons they deemed popish. Lake’s inversion theory has
since demonstrated the successful attempt of an inchoate seventeenth-century
English republi-canism to cast itself as a choice for liberty over popery. Finally, a parallel line of
thought in Conal Condren’s linguistic scholarship allows an interpretation of
Protestant resistance theory as casuistry: the rhetorical manoeuvres involved
in vindicating rebellion and maintaining ‘a verbal and moral space quarantined
from Luciferian pollution’.
Restricting the study to two Civil War
tracts by Cambridgeshire Independent minister William Bridge (1600-1671) permits an examination of
Jesuit influence on an individual Puritan as well as an in-depth exploration of
what loyalty and treason meant during the tempestuous debates of 1642/3. Bridge’s Royalist target
Henry Ferne, following suit with Robert Filmer’s
account in Patriarcha of the inception of kingship in Genesis, elaborated a
patriarchal vision of the properly ordered society already deeply entrenched in
in his Resolving of Conscience (1642) and Conscience Satisfied (1643). Ferne
asserted that ‘[t]he first Fathers of Mankinde, were the first Kings and
Rulers’. Monarchy began with Noah. His progeny dispersed ‘into Countries farre
distant’ where their fathers ruled as kings inheriting power ‘by primogeniture’. Bridge’s
counterattack in The Wovnded Conscience Cvred (1642) and The
Truth of the Times Vindicated (1643) invoked
the spectre of popery to malign his enemy’s patriarchal history as contradictory
to Protestant values and biblical history.
His response reveals less about Ferne’s affinity for Catholicism (probably
negligible and certainly immaterial to the present study) than it does about
Puritan attitudes toward loyalty and sedition.
This article affirms the validity of Lake’s inversion methodology for Bridge’s anti-popery while incorporating commentary from
Condren on resistance theory as casuistry. In the first section, we apply Peter Lake’s inversion theory to Bridge’s portrayal of the evils of divine-right monarchy.
Tracing monarchy’s origins to Edomite rebellion against God, Bridge invoked the
trope of a papal conspiracy to corrupt the king in order to legitimate armed
resistance. Having portrayed monarchy as nefarious and unbiblical, Bridge
presented the alternative contractual government as righteous and scriptural.
Herein lies the paradox of Bridge’s anti-popery: he appropriated Jesuit
contractual theories of government to legitimate an alternative to Ferne’s patriarchy. Evidence of Catholic influence
on Bridge provides a platform for discussing the interpretive merits of the
‘influence model’ for the history of ideas in section two. In section three we
test and affirm the influence model with Jesuit influence upon Bridge as a case
study. Finally, the fourth section brings the paradox full circle, examining
the casuistic language which Bridge invoked to parry accusations of popery for
Jesuit influence on his thought.
above, Peter Lake’s study on inversion reconstructed
the identity of early Stuart Protestantism with respect to anti-popery. A typical tactic of anti-popery reduced political decisions to two
absolutes: catholicity versus heterodoxy or fidelity versus treason, for example. Ferne
advertising monarchy as the only form of government established ‘by divine
example and insinuation’ and dismissing ‘Aristocracy’ and ‘Democracy’ as ‘meer
inventions of man’
provoked Bridge to present his own vision of the properly ordered society in Truth
of the Times. Repudiating absolute monarchy as sinful
and rebellious implied the righteousness and fidelity of its mirror image
Parliamentarianism. Furthermore, given the tainted association of
‘resistance’ in sixteenth- and seventeenth-century England - mutiny against the
king, rebellion against God, and popery - casuistic definitions of resistance
became a survival tactic for Parliamentarians anxious to prove the legitimacy
of their cause.
Bridge cast monarchy as rebellion against
God in order to invert resistance to Charles as an act of loyalty to Protestant
England in accordance with Scripture.
The Hebrew for ‘to rebell [sic]’ was, after all, eponymous for Nimrod, monarch
over Babel, the first ‘kingdome after the flood’. For
‘in erecting his Kingdome, he had rebelled against the way of government which
before wasused [sic] if not appointed.’ Presiding as recalcitrant
despot over Edom, Nimrod differed from Abraham in kind, not just degree. To
Bridge, Scripture affirmed ‘not that Abraham was
a King, or that his government was Monarchical but rather the contrary’.
Indeed, legitimate ‘Kingly government’ only emerged ‘in the fourth age of the
world’ (the era between King David and the Babylonian Captivity). Bridge thus dichotomised Old Testament history for polemical
purposes. The Edomites under ‘Nimrod, ... that cursed and wicked posterity
of Noah’ revelled in monarchical apostasy while the Hebrews flourished
in virtuous pre-political fellowship. For ‘the Jewes did not constitute a
Common-wealth, but a family’ until (as outlined in section three)
deciding to appoint Saul king, Thus Bridge
diplomatically affirmed God’s approval for orderly government, deprived
divine-right theory of its traditional celebrities Adam and Noah, and swapped Nimrod for the patriarchs as
monarchy’s primogenitor. Bridge asserting genesis of monarchy in uprising
against God denied the legitimacy of divine-right theory as a prop for the
monarchy in terms of rebellion, Bridge hesitated to urge the masses into
resistance against Charles. Instead he adopted what Lake has defined as the
‘evil counsellors’ scheme which mandated war as an expression of one’s fidelity
to the king even against His Majesty’s wishes.
The Civil War according to this paradigm targeted not the king but ‘those that
are malignant about the Kings person, notwithstanding the Kings command to the
A papal conspiracy to corrupt the king and supplant English liberty with
tyrannical despotism licenced swift, decisive action. The righteous crusade ‘to
destroy those nests of Jesuites and Jesuited persons’ busily adulterating the
kingdom justified Parliament’s militarisation.
For, Bridge warned, ‘if the Papists get the upper hand,... either they wil
force the King to another Supremacie, or else quickly make a hand of him’. Bridge then recast resistance
in the vocabulary of fealty in asking, ‘[w]hat better service therefore can a
true subject performe to his Majesties person, then by force of Armes to
deliver him out of the hands of those spoylers that lye in waite for his
Here Bridge employed Conal Condren’s
casuistry. By invoking the kingdom as an authority higher than the king and
colouring resistance as defence of the king’s person against his advisors,
Bridge purchased the moral space necessary to promote war.
Another trope of casuistry
presented resistance as defence of order and religion against a self-interested
faction hell-bent on corrupting a wholesome, ostensibly Puritan majority. Thus Bridge portrayed
Parliament’s struggle as a ‘defensive war’ and alleged that Ferne ‘speaks
evill of the Rulers of the people... & seeks to withdraw people from
obedience to authority’ as if Ferne were an agent provocateur corrupting
a rational, dutiful citizenry.
‘Rulers’ indubitably implied a representative body. Yet determining who
those ‘Rulers’ were - the authorities Bridge later set forth as polar
opposites to monarchical despots - compels us more intensively to study the
influences operating on Bridge’s contractual government. For, like most
Civil-War resistance theorists, Bridge did not intend Charles’ deposition. Rather, he contended for
contractual limitations against the king on behalf of the ultimate arbiter of
national government: Parliament.
A brief survey of Bridge’s contractual
theory of government reveals the Catholic influences acting upon it. Yet intellectual
historians contest the adequacy of ‘influence’ as a descriptor for the
transmission of ideas between writers. Harold Bloom having identified ‘anxiety
of influence’ in the field of literary criticism in 1973, Francis Oakley appropriated
the term in 1996 to describe a recent phenomenon: historians’ disquiet with the
potential for one idea to influence another.
Oakley traced historiographical unease surrounding influence to a salvo of
articles from Quentin Skinner. In 1969 Skinner posed a litmus test for
influence: ‘(i) that there should be a genuine similarity between the doctrines
of A and B; (ii) that B could not have found the relevant doctrine in any
writer other than A; (iii) that the probability of the similarity being random
should be very low’.
Taking up Skinner’s ‘influence model’, Oakley tested the influence of conciliar
on seventeenth-century English constitutionalism . Noting numerous examples of
English Parliamentarians who cited councils and conciliar writings, Oakley
located ‘a path from Constance to 1644’.
Tracing continental and Catholic influence then, with proper attention to
detail, may serve as a valid methodology for observing the intellectual
inspiration for parliamentary theorists. Further, Catholic influence, if
demonstrated, will illustrate the hypocrisy of Puritan diatribes against
popery: Puritans could simultaneously embrace Catholic political thought and
Indeed, the central paradox of Calvinist
theories of resistance lay in their Catholic pedigree. As Skinner admitted in
1978, ‘the main foundations of the Calvinist theory of revolution were in fact
constructed entirely by their Catholic adversaries’. Specifically, Jesuit
faculties in sixteenth-century Spanish universities formulated contractual
theories of government from a medieval Thomist tradition. Elaborated from
earlier Spanish Dominican scholarship on Aquinas, the Thomist revival presented
natural law - the moral obligations discernible to all human beings outside
Scripture - as inseparable from God’s moral law revealed in the Bible and as
foundational for civil society. Considering the state of nature in which
political communities are constituted, the Jesuits then addressed the moral
quandary of resistance to monarchs. In doing so, the Jesuits supporting the
papal deposing power.
To Jesuits Luis Molina and Francisco
Suárez, God’s sanction could not apply to monarchical and popular rule
alike. In order to resolve this discrepancy and advocate papal absolutism,
Molina and Suárez followed Aquinas’ dichotomisation of power into the
church, a spiritual sphere of divine institution under the pope with spiritual
goals, and civil society, a political realm of human constitution for earthly
The pope thus remained exempt from deposition given that he represented Christ
on earth. Only God could remove him. By contrast, considering that divine
sanction only applied to them through the intermediary of the people, monarchs
remained subject to the people’s deposing power given the pope’s approval. Further, although Luis Molina and Juan de Mariana and Francisco Suárez
posited the consensual beginnings of secular government in the state of nature,
it was Suárez who popularised the language of ‘contract’. His belief that men (male
householders) are at liberty in the state of nature and decide to constitute
rulers thus situating original sovereignty in the hands of
the community became easily applicable to seventeenth-century
to patriarchy harkened
to the Thomists’ commentary on contractual government in the Old Testament,
which he considered inseparable from natural law.
He refuted Ferne’s theory of primogeniture with a chronicle of younger sons appointed to rule Israel extracted from John de Pineda’s 1613 De Rebus Salomonis. Likewise, Bridge questioned Ferne’s patriarchy with Molina’s distinction
between ‘paternall and civill power’,
asserting that the latter, upon which civil government is based, ‘hath its
origination from the will of Men’ and therefore still subject to the people’s
His desire to represent contractual government as ‘no new upstart opinion’ - to
prove the continuity of his ideas and absolve himself from the charge of
religious innovation - led him to incorporate Catholic ideas.
Yet the most
striking example of Jesuit influence arose from Spanish Jesuit Pedro Hurtado de
Mendoza’s Old Testament commentary directed Bridge to I Samuel 12:13 where he
gleaned that the inauguration of Hebrew kings, even those ‘immediatly appointed
by God himselfe,’ remained subject to ‘the intervening choice of the people’. Popular
election reappeared with Saul’s coronation in I Samuel 11:15, upon which
Bridge imposed a translation of Mendoza’s Latin commentary: ‘What is more plain? Neither could they [the Hebrews] make him King otherwise, then by conferring Kingly power upon him.’ Mendoza further informed Bridge that the Hebrew
‘Synedrion... were equal to Moses being appointed
by God as Moses was,’
thereby confirming the Old Testament presence of a representative body alongside
the patriarchate, which Bridge equated to seventeenth-century hereditary
monarchy. Bridge then prescribed a historical pattern in the formation
of governments from states of nature.
In a subtle twist on divine right theory, God’s sanction applied to the
people’s collective choice for ‘[n]either are... Gods designation and
mans election repugnant, but may stand together’. Bridge’s construction
of ideal government from Jesuit commentary on passages in I Samuel reflected a
desire to extend scriptural sanction to his own version of contractual government
and thereby imply the heterodoxy of Ferne’s patriarchy.
rampant citations of Jesuit authors in Truth of the Times - twice for
Molina, four times for Pineda, and eight times for Mendoza, suggest influence,
if not ‘influence’. Truth meets two of Skinner’s three conditions. ‘Genuine similarity’
exists between Bridge and the Jesuits in the form of direct quotation and his
meticulous citations rule out the likelihood of randomly re-occurring ideas. However, one
can only speculate as to where Bridge originally heard about contractual
government: proving that the Jesuits first introduced him to the idea is nearly
impossible. He does not cite Jesuits when discussing popularly constituted
government in his earlier Wovnded Conscience, suggesting that he
only turned to them to confirm ideas he acquired elsewhere. However,
Bridge’s own equivocal remarks on the appearance of Catholic ideas in his
thought, alongside Ferne’s accusations of popery, affirm the contention that
real influence occurred. To this paradoxical Puritan – Jesuit alliance, and the
sophistry to which Bridge resorted to extricate himself from it, we now turn.
Puritans and Catholics on contractual theories of government from natural law
had already become, as Oakley has shown, commonplace by the 1640s. The English
Puritan appetite for conciliar theory expanded in the sixteenth century,
traceable both to Henry VIII’s support of the royal prerogative over the pope
in the 1530s as well as anti-papal writings in the 1550s from resistance
theorists John Knox and John Ponet.
English-language publications of Gerson, d’Ailly, Mair, and Almain in 1606 and
John of Paris in 1611 further familiarised English people with conciliarism. Thus we find
Stephen Marshall in 1643 invoking ‘the Councell of Basil’ to prove the superiority of council over pope and the ‘Kingdom above
At the same time,
Catholic (especially Jesuit) political thought became increasingly treasonous
in seventeenth-century England. The essentially Spanish
gestation of Jesuit theories on contractual government, England’s turbulent sixteenth-century relationship with Spain, and the threatening images implied in the notions of the ‘Spanish Armada’ and plots against Queen Elizabeth made
these theories especially inflammatory.
By the end of Elizabeth’s reign in 1603, ‘Jesuit’ connoted the pope’s power to dethrone monarchs,
hostility to divine right, and foreign machinations against national sovereignty. The
1605 Gunpowder Plot only intensified such fears. Such Parliamentarian
agitators as Henry Parker who insisted that ‘the maine Engineers in this Civill
Warre are Papists, the most poisonous, serpentine, Iesuited Papists of the
accelerated the stereotyping of Jesuits as insurrectionists and ensured that
the tropes of anti-popery remained a medium of disputation into the 1640s.
Royalists also sniffed out popery of a
distinctly Jesuit flavour in theories of contractual government and exploited
it for polemical purposes.
The tradition of Royalist polemic conflating Jesuits and Puritans in a
moved John Spelman to opine that the theory of the popular origins of government
‘had its first hatching in the Schoole of the Iesuite’. Detecting the Catholic nature
of parliamentary resistance theory, Ferne cautioned ‘all Misse-led People in
this Land’ to avoid such ‘Jesuiticall practises’ as resisting their king,
for ‘under pretence of keeping out Popery, you are led in this way of
resistance by the like steps that brought Popery in [to England]’. Ferne recognized as seditious
the Puritan inclination toward the papal deposing power, a doctrine central to
the Jesuit argument that secular authorities are man-made and hence deposable. For among the Puritans’ ‘many
weapons sharpened for... resistance at the Philistins forge’, they exulted in
‘the Popes power of curbing or deposing Kings in case of Heresie’. In addition, John Maxwell lamented
that the pontiff dethroning monarchs under the guise of maintaining orthodoxy
had taught Puritans to ‘colour and lustre their ugly Treasons and Seditions
with the Cloak of Religion and Righteousness’.
To these Royalists contractual government was only popery of a craftier
stigma of popery in theories of the contractual origins of government forced
Puritans to account for the integrity of their Protestantism. Ferne’s
accusations against Bridge for fraternising with popery left Bridge demanding,
‘[w]ho are most like to the Papists you, or wee, I referre you to all that
knows us’ for ‘we doe differ much from them’. Inverting the
indictment, Bridge insinuated that Ferne himself
frequented ‘the new forge of the Jesuites... which he reserve[d] to whet his
owne weapons at’.
Having sullied Ferne’s reputation, Bridge turned to the reparation of
his own. Asking rhetorically, ‘[i]s this to whet our Sythe at the Philistims Forge, to use the same Scripture for one
purpose, which the Philistims doe
for another[?]’, Bridge concluded that arguments do not become ‘Popish because
they use the same Scripture to other purposes’. Invoking Scripture - the fact that
‘Abraham’ would not ‘refuse the use of
the Well because Ahimilechs men had used it’ - Bridge assimilated his
popish predecessors into a biblical canon. Simultaneously justifying his
appropriation of Catholic natural law in the vocabulary of Puritanism, denying
his culpability, and alleging Ferne’s fraternity with Catholicism, Bridge
revealed an acute sensitivity to the force of anti-popery as a ‘language of
example has illustrated the nebulous nature of anti-popery. As Lake noticed, anti-popery could become a contradiction unto itself, a discourse rather than
a political platform.
Catholicism lay ready to hand both as an incubator for ideas to marshal against
divine right theory and a spectre to invoke against Royalism. For Bridge had
borrowed a natural law discourse on the contractual origins of government yet
manipulated popery to depreciate his foes as rebels against a Protestant God
and traitors against a Protestant England. Then, having constructed a political
theory at once scriptural and Catholic, Bridge resorted to inversion to extricate
himself from Ferne’s quite justifiable allegations of popery. The same
inversion is evident in the rhetorical contortions to which Bridge resorted to
portray resistance as an act of duty unto the king. In
light of Lake’s inversion theory and Condren’s casuistry, Bridge’s
appropriation of scholastic thought provides evidence of a Puritan co-mingling
reverence for natural law of a Catholic variety with anti-popery in the service
of scripturally sanctioned order.
The above study has
been more vertical than horizontal, rendering problematic any attempt to extend
it to Puritan culture as a whole without first incorporating more Puritan
pamphleteers. Nevertheless, Bridge’s faith was a Puritanism more temporally,
spatially, and religiously elastic than typically appreciated. His atavistic
appetite for Jesuit ideas birthed in a thirteenth-century scholasticism
traceable through Aquinas to Aristotle evidences a connexion between
seventeenth-century Puritanism and medieval Christianity despite the Protestant
rejection of scholasticism for sola scriptura. Moreover, the essentially
Spanish influence discussed above confirms Sommerville’s thesis of a
continental, cosmopolitan perspective amongst at least select Stuart-era Protestants. Lastly, Bridge’s willingness
to quote Catholic doctrines demonstrates a precociously ecumenical outlook,
which, if future scholarship can extend it beyond individual writers, may lower
the boundaries between ‘Catholic’ and ‘Protestant’ resistance theories. To
borrow Bridge’s phrase, perhaps seventeenth-century Puritanism was less of a
‘new upstart opinion’ and more of a synthesis of medieval and post-Reformation
*The author is grateful to The British Library for permission to
reproduce images of its copyrighted materials in this article.
 John Morrill, ‘The religious context of the English
Civil War’, TRHS, 5th ser., 34 (1984), p. 178.
 Ibid., p. 157.
 Glenn Burgess, ‘Religion and the
historiography of the English Civil War’, in Charles W. A. Prior and Glenn Burgess
(eds.), England’s Wars of Religion, Revisited (Ashgate, 2011),
pp. 21-22; idem, ‘On Revisionism: An analysis of early Stuart historiography in
the 1970s and 1980s’, HJ, 33 (Sep. 1990), p. 615.
 Edward Vallance, ‘Preaching to the converted:
Religious justifications for the English Civil War’, Huntington Library
Quarterly, 65/3-4 (2002), p. 397.
 Burgess, ‘Historiography’, p. 23.
 Stuart Clark, ‘Inversion, misrule
and the meaning of witchcraft’, P&P, 87 (May, 1980), p. 127.
 R.W. Scribner, For the Sake of Simple
Folk: Popular Propaganda for the German Reformation (Cambridge, 1981), pp.
 Peter Lake, ‘Anti-Puritanism: The
structure of a prejudice’ in Peter Lake and Kenneth Fincham (eds.), Religious
Politics in Post-Reformation England: Essays in Honour of Nicholas Tyacke (Woodbridge, 2006), pp. 81, 96; idem, ‘Anti-popery: The structure of a
prejudice’ in Richard Cust and Ann Hughes (eds.), Conflict in Early Stuart
England: Studies in Religion and Politics 1603-1642 (New York, 1989).
 Ibid., pp. 80-83.
 Clement Fatovic, ‘The Anti-Catholic
roots of liberal and republican conceptions of freedom in English political
thought’ Journal of the History of Ideas, 66/1 (Jan., 2005), pp. 38-40,
57-58, in reference to Milton, Locke, Algernon Sidney, and Edmund Burke.
 Conal Condren, Argument and Authority
in Early Modern England: The Presupposition of Oaths and Offices (Cambridge, 2006), p. 188; see also Edward Vallance, ‘The kingdom's case: The use of
casuistry as a political language 1640-1692’, Albion, 34/4 (Winter, 2002), pp. 557-583.
 Richard L. Greaves, ‘Bridge, William
(1600/01–1671)’, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (Oxford
University Press: 2004); [Web edn, Jan 2008. http:// www. oxforddnb. com/ view/
article/ 3389], accessed 5 Dec 2014.
 David Wootton, ‘From rebellion to revolution:
The crisis of the winter of 1642/3 and the origins of Civil War radicalism’, English
Historical Review, 105/416 (Jul., 1990), pp. 654-669.
 David Underdown, Revel, Riot and Rebellion:
Popular Politics and Culture in England 1603-1660 (Oxford, 1985) pp. 9-11,
287; Although Patriarcha was published in 1680, Sommerville has dated
its authorship to before the Civil War in Johann P. Sommerville (ed.), Patriarcha
and Other Writings (Cambridge, 1991), pp. xxxiii-xxxiv; see also
xvi-xvii and 27-34.
 Underdown, Revel, Riot and Rebellion, pp.
9-11ff; for a challenge to historiographical assumptions about the universal
acceptance of patriarchal dominance early modern England, see Anthony Fletcher,
‘Men's dilemma: The future of patriarchy in England 1560-1660’, TRHS, 6th ser., vol. 4 (1994), p. 80.
 H[enry] Fern[e], The Resolving of Conscience (Cambridge, 1642), Wing F800, EEBO,
Web, 2 Dec 2014; idem, Conscience satisfied, (Oxford, 1643), Wing F791,
BL, TT, E 97, EEBO, Web, 30 Nov 2014.
 Ferne, Conscience Satisifed, p. 8.
 William Bridge, The Wovnded Conscience
Cvred (London, 1642), Wing B4476, BL, TT, E 89, Early English Books
Online, Web, 30 Nov 2014; idem, The Truth of the Times Vindicated (London,
1643), Wing B4467, BL, TT, E 61, EEBO, Web, 30 Nov 2014.
 Lake, ‘Anti-popery’, pp. 73-74.
 J. P. Sommerville has recognized Jesuit impact
on Bridge but the paradox of Catholic influence on a Puritan has not been
explored; in J. P. Sommerville, Royalists and Patriots: Politics and
Ideology in England, 1603-1640 (New York, 2014), p. 222.
 Lake, ‘Anti-popery’, p. 74.
 Ibid., ‘Anti-Puritanism’, p. 90.
 Ferne, Conscience Satisfied, pp.
 Bridge, Truth, pp. 1-4. Bridge did
not advocate the abolition of monarchy, only the substitution of divine-right
monarchy for a limited monarchy with divine sanction on the contractual
election of monarchs.
 Condren, Argument and Authority,
 Conal Condren, The Language of Politics
in Seventeenth-century England (New York, 1994), pp. 116-117.
 Bridge, Truth, p. 10; Augustine
divided history into six ages, Adam inaugurating the first and Christ the
sixth. In Graeme Dunphy, ‘Six ages of the world’, in Graeme Dunphy (ed.) Encyclopedia
of the Medieval Chronicle (Leiden, 2010), pp. 1367–1370.
 Bridge, Truth, pp. 7, 11, quote at
 Schochet, Patriarchalism, p.
 Lake, ‘Anti-Puritanism’, p. 81.
 Bridge, Truth, p. 20.
 Lake, ‘Anti-popery’, p. 91.
 Bridge, Truth, unnumbered page, fo.
A2v, p. 18.
 Ibid., Wovnded Conscience, p. 44.
 Ibid., p. 44.
 Condren, Argument and Authority, p.
 Ibid, Language of Politics, pp.
116-117; Lake, ‘Anti-popery’, p. 91.
 Bridge, Wovnded Conscience, unnumbered
page, fo. A2r.
 Sommerville, Royalists and Patriots, p.
 Bridge, Wovnded Conscience, pp.
 Harold Bloom, The Anxiety of Influence:
A Theory of Poetry (New York, 1973), p. 148, 150.
 Francis Oakley, ‘“Anxieties of
Influence”: Skinner, Figgis, Conciliarism and Early Modern Constitutionalism’ Past
& Present, 151 (May, 1996), p. 60ff. Oakley modelled his own study on
John Neville Figgis, Political Thought from Gerson to Grotius: 1414–1625:
Seven Studies (Kitchener, 1990; first pub. New York, 1960).
 Quentin Skinner, ‘Meaning and understanding
in the history of ideas’, History and Theory, 8/1 (1969), p. 26; idem,
‘The limits of historical explanations’, Philosophy, 41/157 (Jul.,
1966), pp. 199-215.
 The Councils of Constance (1414) and Basle
(1431), proceeding from the Great Schism of 1378
to 1417, asserted the authority of councils over the papacy even to the point
of deposing popes. In Antony Black, Political Thought in Europe 1250-1450 (Cambridge, 1992), pp. 169-178.
 Oakley, ‘Anxieties’, pp. 76-94.
 Ibid., pp. 93-94.
 Quentin Skinner, The Foundations of Modern
Political Thought, (2 vols., Cambridge, 1978), vol. II, p. 321.
 Sommerville, Royalists and Patriots, pp.
13-18; Skinner, Foundations, II, pp. 137-138, 140, 145.
 J.H.M. Salmon, ‘Catholic resistance theory,
Ultramontanism, and the royalist response, 1580-1620’ in J.H. Burns and Mark Goldie (eds.) The Cambridge History of Political Thought 1450-1700 (Cambridge, 1991), pp. 237-238.
 John Hittinger, Liberty, Wisdom, and Grace:
Thomism and Democratic Political Theory (Boston, 2002), p. 40; Bernice Hamilton, Political Thought in Sixteenth-century Spain: A Study of the Political Ideas
of Vitoria, De Soto, Suárez, and Molina (Oxford, 1963), p. 69-70.
 Höpfl, Jesuit Political Thought, pp.
 Salmon, ‘Catholic resistance theory’, pp. 240-241.
 Ibid., pp. 248-253.
 Ibid., pp. 252-253.
 Black, Political Thought in Europe, p. 178.
 Oakley, ‘Anxieties’, p. 106-108; Bridge considered Scripture,
especially the Decalogue, as inseparable from natural law: Truth, pp.
 Bridge, Truth, p. 12, referring to John de Pineda, De
Rebus Salomonis Regis vel Salomon Praevius (fol, n.p.: Sumptibus Antonij
Hierati, 1613), pp. 73-82. Retrieved from Bayerische Staatsbibliothek Digital 25 November 2014 at http://goo.gl/M1l2NY.
 Bridge, Truth, p. 11. On Molina’s view of resistance see
Salmon, ‘Catholic resistance theory’, pp. 261, 266; for Molina’s contextual
background, see Hamilton, Sixteenth-century Spain, pp. 180-184.
 Bridge, Wovnded Conscience, pp. 10-11.
 Daniel Novotny, Ens Rationis from Suarez to Caramuel: A Study in
Scholasticism of the Baroque Era, (New York, 2013), p. 13. For a parallel
theory to that of Mendoza in Huguenot thought, see Skinner, Foundations, II, pp. 326-338.
 Bridge, Truth, p. 7; I Sam. 12:13 [King James Version]: ‘Now
therefore behold the king whom ye have chosen, and whom ye have desired! . . .’
 I Sam. 11:15: ‘And all the people went to Gilgal; and there they
made Saul king before the Lord...’
 Bridge, Truth, p. 7.
 Ibid., p. 26.
 Ibid., p. 7.
 Ibid., passim.
 Skinner, ‘Meaning and understanding’, p. 26.
 Bridge, Wovnded Conscience, p. 209.
 Oakley, ‘Anxieties’, pp. 76-94, 101-102; for the conciliar impact
on constitutionalism, see Francis Oakley, The Conciliarist Tradition:
Constitutionalism in the Catholic Church 1300-1870 (Oxford, 2003), pp.
 Ibid., Conciliarist Tradition, pp. 133-139.
 Ibid.,‘Anxieties’, p. 83.
 Stephen Marshall, A Copy of a Letter Written by Mr. Stephen
Marshall (London, 1643), Wing
M750, BL, TT, E 102, EEBO,
Web, 30 Nov 2014, p. 9.
 Charles Howard McIlwain (ed.), The Political Works of James I (Cambridge, 1918), pp. xxvi-xxviii.
 Lake, ‘Anti-popery’, p. 79; Oakley, ‘Anxieties’, p. 88; Anthony
Milton, Catholic and Reformed: The Roman and Protestant Churches in English
Protestant Thought 1600-1640 (Cambridge, 1995), p. 42-43.
 Milton, Catholic and Reformed, p. 43.
 [Henry Parker], The Contra-Replicant, his Complaint to His
Maiestie [London, 1642/3], Wing P400, BL, TT, 87, EEBO, Web, 30
Nov 2014, p. 9.
 Anthony Fletcher, The Outbreak of the English Civil War (London, 1985), pp. 410-412; Milton, Catholic and Reformed, p. 92; Lake,
‘Anti-Popery’, p. 80.
 Sommerville, Royalists and Patriots, p. 46, 50.
 Oakley, ‘Anxieties’, p. 88.
 [John Spelman], Certain Considerations upon the Duties Both of
Princes and People (Oxford, 1642), p. 2; as quoted in Gordon Schochet, Patriarchalism
in Political Thought: The Authoritarian Family and Political Speculation and Attitudes
Especially in Seventeenth-century England (Oxford, 1975), p. 101.
 Ferne, Resolving of Conscience, fo. ¶1r,
 Hittinger, Thomism, p. 40; Hamilton, Sixteenth-century
Spain, pp. 69-70.
 Ferne, Resolving Conscience, p. 24.
 John Maxwell, Sacro-sancta regum majestas (Oxford, 1644),
Wing M1384, BL, TT, E 30, EEBO, Web, 9 Dec 2014, p. 27.
 Oakley, ‘Anxieties’, p. 101.
 Bridge, Truth, p. 49; see Ferne, Resolving of Conscience,
p. 24 for context.
 Bridge, Truth, p. 48.
 Ibid., p. 47.
 Ibid., p. 49.
 Condren, Language of Politics.
 Lake, ‘Anti-Puritanism’, p. 81.
 Sommerville, Royalists and Patriots, pp. 14-15.
 Ibid., p. 78.
 Bridge, Wovnded Conscience, pp. 10-11.
Table of contents: The Kazakh-American Free University Academic Journal №6 - 2014