When Parliament dissolved after having accomplished, during its seven years, the greatest permanent revolution in the history of England, it had snapped the bands with Rome and determined articles of religious belief; it had given the king more power in the church than the pope ever had, and had exalted his prerogative in the state to a pitch never reached before or afterwards; it had dissolved the smaller monasteries, abridged the liberties of the subject, settled the succession to the throne, created new treasons and heresies; it had handled grave social problems, like enclosures and mendicancy; and had united Wales to England. [Sidenote: Execution of Anne Boleyn] And now the woman for whose sake, one is tempted to say, the king had done it all--though of course his share in the revolution does not represent the real forces that accomplished it--the woman he had won with "such a world of charge and hell of pain," was to be cast into the outer darkness of the most hideous tragedy in history. Anne Boleyn was not a good woman. And yet, when she was accused of adultery [Sidenote: May 19, 1536] with four men and of incest with her own brother, {299} though she was tried by a large panel of peers, condemned, and beheaded, it is impossible to be sure of her guilt. [Sidenote: Jane Seymour] On the day following Anne's execution or, as some say, on May 30, Henry married his third wife, Jane Seymour. On October 12, 1537, she bore him a son, Edward. Forced by her husband to take part in the christening, an exhausting ceremony too much for her strength, she sickened and died soon afterwards. [Sidenote: Lutheran tracts]